The Trust in Lies
by Raen
Summary: The Saiyans searched everywhere for their Prince's son Trunks. They have found him. Taken him. Made him their Prince. Friends are not who they claim to be. Trunks's survival skills will be put to the test as an unknown enemy wants him very much dead.
1. Default Chapter

From: "Alison R" alison.rodgers@clear.net.nz  
Subject: ch1  
Date: Saturday, 2 November 2002 11:47  
  
Some Things People May Like To Know:  
First, before anyone starts berating me "Ooooh, how come Planet Vegita exists, you cant do that yaaaa" and such like, I'll tell you all this is an AU fic, and as far as I'm concerned I can do that. Now, Freiza never existed so Planet Vegita went about doing their own Planet-Pirate thing because that's the sort of people they are. You'll find out why Vegita ended up on Earth in later chapters. And since I'm not going to be mentioning Goku much I'll say that since Freiza never happened, he never went Super Saiyan, no Namek, no Yardrat, no virus, but he got killed by the androids because he wasn't a super Saiyan, along with all others in the Mirai/Future timeline. Gohan is the first and only Super Saiyan Earth has ever seen. Trunks is ten. I will update when I'm able. Over and out.  
Disclaimer: Here, use ff.net's new dictionary and look up 'Fanfiction' you'll see (probably, I haven't actually tried) that it means written by fans, i.e., not the actual creator, kapeesh?  
  
The Trust in Lies...  
  
  
It was one of those sleepless nights where the stars are a zillion bright gems in the sky and you think that you might just be able to hear the energy that pumps through the air sing, if you could only concentrate on that one thing, because concentrating is very difficult on nights like this.   
This was how Trunks felt, as he lay awake on top of his covers, he felt like he should be doing something, anything, be it pacing up and down the hall out of restlessness, which he had resorted to a few times previously. Sparring, now that would burn off some energy and maybe he'd be able to sleep this night, instead of in the day when the body knows it shouldn't be, Trunks could never fall asleep while the sun still shone. However Gohan hadn't been over for weeks, the android's attacks were focusing on somewhere far south-east from here, and Gohan had followed them down, besides, he still hadn't talked Gohan into training him yet, and Gohan wouldn't make the first move, not with Bulma to answer to.  
Trunks decided to leap out the window and just fly whichever way the wind was blowing, perhaps a better choice than pacing (Bulma would occasionally be working late, and hear her sleepless son walking up and down the hall, then find him something to do because she hated wasting time. It was usually something dead boring too, like cleaning) He was still wearing clothes, not having been bothered getting changed because he knew he wouldn't sleep, so he pulled on his shoes and opened the window to warm, restless-as-he-was air.  
He knew straight away where he was heading; the hills a fair distance north that neither man nor the androids had barely touched. They were cloaked with tall ancient trees, perfect climbing trees for any ten year old, even one who'd grow up in Trunks's world.  
Hours past and the night grew deeper, the wood was full of whispered secrets and the air had taken on a cooler form. Trunks was almost asleep when the sky tore open.  
He thought it was the androids, who else? The sound, trees uprooting themselves in a desperate attempt to flee the area, and a thin whine followed by a colossal sonic boom as the sound barrier snapped like a (very loud) twig, caught Trunks off guard and all he could do was press his hands to his ears and hope. Hope the world wasn't ending, which was what it felt like, when the cooling night air turned scorching and brightly harsh, and something whizzed over head, pressing all beneath is to the ground with the force of its speed. Trunks hit the ground on his stomach with a painful thwack, then rolled over himself involuntarily with the force of the Thing, as if it had it's own gravitational pull.  
The noise of the crash it made when it hit the ground was even bigger.  
Trunks pulled himself into a sitting position by hooking his arm round a tree trunk that had fallen with him, and waited to see if his ears would stop ringing, or if they were going to be screaming at him for being so stupid as to be near that Thing when it landed forever.  
*************  
Parsnal felt the shock of impact even through the cushioned interior of the herald's ship, clenching his teeth together to avoid biting off his tongue or any other vital mouthparts he briefly noticed the landing was easier than it would have been back on planet Vegita, perhaps the ground was far softer on this planet, perhaps there was a difference in the gravity.  
Yes, there was. As Parsnal stepped onto the dirt he noted how much lighter he felt. The ship had made a larger crater than it would back home. So Ea-arths crust must be rather weak, he thought. The air was much nicer, and surrounding the crater, as if looking down on their intruder, were many huge plants, thick wooden ones with green tops. Parsnal noticed neither of these planetary differences, he didn't care, what he was doing was staring into his green scouter, scanning the planet for the highest power reading, which would obviously be the Prince he had been sent to find.  
*************  
Trunks's ears had stopped ringing, and made way for the shouts of his curiosity telling him to go find out what that... Thing was. He scrambled over the once-trees-now-debris trail left by the Thing, and stopped at the edge of the ginormous crater, peering down at a sperical object lying in the centre.  
The top of the Thing moved and a sliver of the ship lowered to the ground, out stepped a huge man, dressed in armour looking oddly like the stuff his mother kept fondly in a box under her bed. Trunks, in shock, moved behind a tree that had had itself ripped out at the roots.  
Parsnal tilted his head slightly to the left as his scouter picked up a reading very close by, he levitated out of the hole till above ground level and followed his scouter till his eyes were locked on Trunks, who was in turn looking back up at the stranger. The older man dropped down, landing in front of Trunks.  
"Who are you, boy?" Parsnal asked roughly, his scouter had picked up another, stronger -very strong, in fact- reading further off, this reading was assumed to be the Prince.   
"Trunks." Trunks stated, wanting to ask who the stranger was, but not daring, he could tell his power exceeded his own, and the look in his eyes said he was quick to anger.   
*Trunks?* Thought Parsnal, as the scouter translated this into Saiyan. *By the reading he could be no other than the Prince's son. But has Ea-arth corrupted the Prince's mind so much as he would break the naming tradition?*  
"And you father is the Prince of all Saiyans?" He said it with a slight question at the end, but didn't doubt that what he was saying was true.   
"Who are you?" Trunks asked, not being able to contain the question longer, wary and on his guard. *And how do you know that, no-one knows that?* He thought  
"I've been sent to find our Prince, and though I am honoured to meet his son, I need to speak with him immediately." Parsnal levelled with Trunks and bowed, Trunks didn't know what to do, so he froze.  
"Um" Said Trunks uncertainly, "He's a bit, sort of dead."  
An unreadable expression took control of Parsnal's face for pieces of a moment, but was replaced by the firm coldness that rode his face since he had landed, and probably long before then, thought Trunks.   
"You lie." Said the Saiyan disbelievingly, "I can pick him up on the scouter, ninety three Ea-arthian miles south-south east."  
Trunks thought for a moment, forgetting to be wary as he searched the said area with what locating skills he had. "Oh no, that's Gohan." He said casually,   
"Son of...?" Asked Parsnal, wondering if he was another son of the Prince.  
"Goku. Why do you want to know? And you still haven't told me who you are."  
"Goku's not a Saiyan name" The older man said to himself, "Is he no relation to the Prince? Are you the only one?"  
"Yes" Trunks drew out the e's in his word, suspicious that he should probably be getting out of there, there was very little light, some shone from the inside of the Saiyan's ship, illuminating the crater but little surrounding area, the shape of the huge man was almost silhouetted against the light, the stars were not bright enough to light his face tonight. He loomed over Trunks, who felt even more like getting out of there, his mere presence boded. "And" Trunks said, not showing fear, or not much, "I'm not saying any more until you've told me who you are, and why you're here."  
The Sayain looked down at the boy, blue eyes glaring stubbornly up at him. *This boy is Planet Vegita's heir? He's far too trusting to be from Vegita's line, but perhaps going soft on a water planet will do that to a Prince, make him name his child 'Trunks' and rear him the way this boy has been raised. This...this could work out for the best...*  
The Saiyan raised a large shadow of an arm and brought it down fast onto Trunks's neck. Trunks felt his bones jar and thick black helplessness drown him, the Saiyan caught him by the scruff of his top, dropped downwards and placed the limp heir on the cold hard floor of the ship. 


	2. From Earth to Space

From: "Alison R" alison.rodgers@clear.net.nz  
Subject: ch2  
Date: Saturday, 2 November 2002 11:43  
  
  
  
The Trust in Lies  
Chapter 2: From Earth to Space  
*************  
Trunks head swam up out of the awful darkness, and he managed to open his eyes to a white, slightly curved wall, it was a few more minutes before his brain woke up completely and registered that the wall was strange, and unfamiliar. He tried to sit up, but discovered he already was, slumped over the back of a high backed seat. His arms felt weak and his legs were practically jelly, his vision was almost clear, save for a few blurry patches when he moved his head too fast.  
  
Trunks stared round at his eerily familiar space ship prison. Bulma had a Saiyan pod in Capsule Corp's basement, along with a myriad of half finished or never-worked-in-the-first-place inventions. Trunks had spent only a few hours sitting inside it, wondering about his father, because there were more important things at hand, like convincing Gohan to work through routine after routine with him, or making sure his mother ate while working on whatever she happened to be working on. Had the circumstances been different Trunks probably would have spent longer wondering in the pod.  
  
This one was larger, rounded, with two doors leading out of the main chamber. The chair he was on- and buckled into, Trunks noted, but was that from takeoff or for some other purpose?- faced the main room that contained the control panel, millions of buttons all flashing bright coloured lights. Trunks turned his head away, as they made that place behind his eyes ache.  
  
The heavily muscular man grunted and turned round to Trunks, after finishing programming the ship on auto-pilot. He inspected Trunks with a sharp black eye. "My Prince, you're going to have to make a few changes. Those clothes, for one, must be changed." He said in Saiyan, his voice translated through the scouter with a heavy accent.  
  
"I'm not going to be your Prince." Trunks said, and found he could indeed speak, "So take me home." He tried to sound firm and confident, but his voice failed him.  
  
"And your Highness will need a scouter while Your Highness learns our language. I speak no Ea-arthian and do not intend to. Did Your Highness's father the Prince teach you nothing?" His scouter inquired, while the boy picked up a language full of hard R's and K's underneath his words. The older male disappeared through the door, the left one, and came back a moment later –too soon for Trunks to get to the control panel and figure out a course back to Earth, he hadn't held much hope for that plan anyway, his head still felt woozy- holding some red and midnight blue material, perched like a poisoned cheery on the top was a scouter of blue glass.   
  
"It is set to translate from Your Highness's Ea-arthian to Saiyan, the lower button reads power levels, and the higher a communicator, Your Highness can speak with any other Saiyans with the same make of scouter so long as Your Highness has their signature number entered in the scouters mainframe chip. One of Your Highness's personal slaves will do that, but Your Highness need not worry about that yet." The scouter was tossed at Trunks in a less that formal manner, Trunks realised that the language the man spoke under the translated 'Ea-arthian' was probably not as formal as the scouter made it out to be, and was merely a translation bug. He bet his mother could fix it, and was washed over with a feeling that told him he'd never see home again.   
  
He hated that feeling.  
  
His head a little clearer, he put the scouter on and half the world went blue. Small digits he didn't recognise popped up onto the screen as he looked through it to his kidnapper's face. He took it off again as if it really was poison. Trunks, guessing that the man wouldn't hurt him, not with amount of respect in his words, felt bolder; he tossed the clothes on the floor with a soft thump, managed to unbuckle the odd clips that held him to the seat on the first try, and, holding the chair arm for support, stood up. "Turn this ship around." He imagined how Gohan would have said it, "and return me to Earth."  
  
"Cannot do, Your Majesty." Parsnal sat down with a strong muscly ease. Trunks stayed standing, Parsnal was practically lounging in an opposite chair, a swivel chair that usually faced the control panel, but now was facing Trunks. The two were about the same height like this, and Trunks didn't want to loose his advantage. He knew this man could beat him to a pulp- hoped he wouldn't, but knew he could.  
  
Riding on that hope, Trunks frowned. "Can't? Or won't?"  
  
"Both." Parsnal said, jerking the sleeve of his right arm upwards, revealing deep welts in the skin, most of them looked new, not quite fresh, but probably a month or two old. "This is what they did to me to find out where your father went." He spat. "I was the only one who knew. It's my head if I don't bring back a Prince. Any Prince." The formality of his voice was gone, replaced by the anger at those who inflicted the wounds.  
  
Trunks eyed the man. "Why go back at all?" He asked. *It doesn't sound the nicest place* He thought, and another crossed his mind *If this man was tortured to tell where my father was, why was he too sent to find him? Would the Saiyans entrust that mission to him? Or am I making assumptions about them?*  
  
"Would you leave your planet forever?" The man was quick to speak.  
  
"Well, that's what you're asking of me" Trunks said bitterly  
  
"Shut up." Yes, the formalness was defiantly gone, Trunks wondered what had happened to it. Of course it had been an act, but what revelation inside that thickly haired head had made him drop it? Trunks had a feeling he didn't want to know. "Duty to my late King. Vegitasei has been without King or Prince for fifteen years, things have been going mad, and have been barely kept in check by those left in the high positions or Court and Council. The entire planet needs someone to bring them together and lead them, else too many rebellions will break out. It has begun already, since our King's assassination, and the realisation that no-one ever found out where his son was, the same realisation that the planet was heirless, without sufficient- any- royal blood to be called upon as a leader, some entire nations have been revolting against the Court's rule. We need a true Blood King, or a Blood Prince." Parsnals voice showed little sign of emotion, and kept its rough quality throughout. "There is no other but you that the people will rally behind."  
  
*He won't find a Prince in me* Thought Trunks, *Even I've looked, a true Prince would have been able to convince Gohan to train me. Then maybe I wouldn't be in this mess.*  
  
"I can't." Said Trunks, "Please. Just find someone else and take me home."  
  
"Stop thinking like that. There is no other. You will be Prince willingly. Or you could kill me, escape to Ea-arth where you will be hunted down and taken with force and little regard as to what happens to Ea-arth afterwards." The threat in Parsnals voice twisted Trunks's stomach in a knot of fear. "Yes" Parsnal said, reading the look on Trunks's face, "They would."  
  
Trunks didn't know if he lied or not, but he remembered his mother telling him of the two Saiyans' first arrival on Earth, his own father and Nappa, who were searching for the dragonballs Trunks had only heard stories of. They would do anything to get them and had little, no, no regard for the planet or any of its inhabitants. Until his father met his mother.  
  
But if all Saiyans were like his father had been, and if was too likely to say 'if', then Trunks knew he couldn't take the risk of calling the Saiyan's bluff, because it probably wasn't one.  
  
More time. That was what he needed, he knew there was a way out somehow, that there was plan in his fuzzy head somewhere. Playing along with this...this nightmare, until there showed an opportunity to escape was his only option that wouldn't put Earth in more danger than it already was. 


	3. Shock on all parts

Chapter 3. Shock

Gohan was tired. He'd been hunting down the androids for almost two months, and the only time they had stopped was to start blowing things up. Which they seemed to plan just as he was falling asleep. After weeks of this treatment he grabbed sleep whenever he could, just to be awake when they attacked, so he could give the people a chance. Just a chance! Seconds saved lives these days, sometimes arriving half a minute too late would cost too much.

And so the night they lost Trunks he was dead asleep, put up in a kind civilians house for the night. The strange sensation of getting a proper sleep was interrupted by the stranger sensation of a foreign ki signature entering earths atmosphere somewhere in the north. He sat up in the bed, blinking and wondering where he was, before he realised it wasn't a dream and there really was something weird going on. He dressed quickly, something he'd managed to get very good at recently, leaped out the window. Somehow it was easier to sense changes while outside in the open air. Gohan closed his eyes and searched the area where the strange ki had landed, it was a little too close for comfort to Capsule Corp, and...Trunks was there? Gohan frowned, the ki felt, not just different, but like something he'd sensed before, a long time ago. He didn't like it, and began a mental dilemma with his conscious whether to go back and investigate, or stay.

Going back wouldn't take long, a little under an hour, and it would put his mind at ease. It was this he decided on, since the androids were lying dormant at the moment, who knew where. Back inside, he scrawled a quick note of thanks for the couple that had housed him for the night. 

Gohan took off as fast as he could, not wanting to leave for too long, anything could happen while he was gone. But it didn't. It happened just as he was leaving. The shopping complex, which was also the main social centre of the city, exploded in a massive display of heat and light, sending a shock wave out for miles around. Gohan swore loudly, then bit his tongue and headed back towards the scene of attack, hoping Trunks wouldn't get himself into anything too deep.

*************

Trunks stood at the window of the spaceship, staring out towards the fist sized, ruddy brown ball that Parsnal had told him to be Planet Vegita. Trunks was dressed in proper royal Saiyan armour, similar to Parsnal's, but his had a deep red cloak falling to below his knees, fastened at the neck with the royal crest of family Vegita, which hung heavily on him, made of a metal more precious and more weighted than gold, but reasonably close in colour. He still wore his own shoes, while the armour fit any size, the Saiyan boots provided were too big, and made Trunks trip over his own feet when he wore them. The shoes were more comfortable anyway, but Parsnal had made it quite obvious that comfort was not the first priority of being a Prince.

It had been just over three months of straight travel since they had left Earth, Trunks had been keeping rough count of his sleeps but in the last twenty-something days he'd lost count. The time had been spent adjusting to many things, gravity especially, Trunks was proud to say he could do everything he was able to do on Earth, in the gravity of Planet Vegita, which was about ten times greater, he could also speak more than a few phrases in Saiyan, knew the correct way of greeting five different ranks of high born nobles, and was actually beginning to like Parsnal. It surprised him, the fact he was proud of learning the language, maybe because he didn't really believe he'd ever need them, or maybe because the language and customs were his fathers, the only thing of his he really ever had. 

Parsnal was not the best teacher, but things got done. His fighting techniques came second to Gohan's, but he had some good moves of his own. He was quick to anger, but was still too respectful of the young Prince to do him any real harm, Trunks was often glad of the workout. Best of all, Trunks learned his father and Parsnal had been close friends before Vegita left the planet in search of the dragonballs, only Parsnal had called the 'Balls of the Dragon King' capital letters and all. This made Trunks a more attentive student, because the reward was usually some story about his father, if Parsnal was in a good mood. Parsnal even called him Trunks half the time, although it was always Prince Trunks, and he had stopped about a fortnight ago, because- he said- Trunks needed to get used to the name Prince Vegita, because that was what he would be called by everyone else. Trunks hoped he could get at least some of them to call him Trunks, but then remembered hopefully he wasn't going to be staying long anyway, so what did it matter? He never forgot his plan to get home though, and throughout the months had kept a sharp eye out for any means of achieving this hope. He missed his mother, Gohan, and home, so much that at times it tore him up, and he had to fight back hot tears which he couldn't let show, so ended up with a tight, sore feeling in his chest.

And now they were only hours away from landing at planet Vegita.

He would be taken round all the most important Lords, and Men of the Court and Counsel. Then his distant cousins would come offering him gifts and hoping for a place of higher power ('The little scabs!' said Parsnal. 'Stick your nose in the air and ignore them'). And then he would be introduced to his people after the royal banquet which was even now being prepared, many hundreds of miles below. There would be crowds of welcoming masses at the landing bay. Not only the Court and Council, but normal, low classed civilians too.

In just hours...They would pass Planter Vegita's moon soon. Parsnal was programming the ships shutters to close soon, because the moon was full, and he, unlike Trunks, had a tail. 

Trunks sighed and watched the shutters close, then turned from the window and continued to wait in his room.

*************

"There's no time!" Maroda wailed as she burst through the door of her spacious mansion. She strode along the long floor -shiny from hours of polishing- of the entrance hall, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the slaves voiceless presence, and took the stairs in a most un-lady-like manner two at a time. "Lushka! If you're not home..." She left the threat hanging, but her voice spoke of what would happen to her daughter if she failed to answer. The twelve year old girl appeared at the top of the softly carpeted stairs, pulling her long hair into a high tail. "I was going out, Mother." She twisted her pretty face into an annoyed look, "I'm meeting the girls at the Palace." *And I'm not having you ruin my night,* Lushka thought, her mother was far more powerful than she was, and she wasn't going to risk broken bones, or unsightly bruises. "Cancel it." The words were short, and her voice was daggerblade sharp. "The Prince arrives tonight, in a few mere hours. If I'm to be in the running for his escort, and then Queen, I must not miss his arrival." Maroda swept through the high halls towards her private chambers, her daughter kept pace, walking slightly behind her as was required. The older woman stopped pace just before the huge carved wooden door, deeply engraved into gorgeous patterns, gold rivers ran in each of the wooden valleys. "Why is this door not opening!" She demanded, and one of the half grown slaves scurried forward to open the door to her rooms. One white gloved hand drew back, and slapped the slave across the face, making the nameless underling bite her tongue and causing her mouth to fill with blood, the slave drew back quickly, forbidden tears pricking her eyes. "Next time, act quickly." Lushka parted her mothers silky black locks, and carefully- her mothers tongue was as sharp as her slap- brushed the ebony waterfall until perfect, then secured it with a red-jewelled hairpiece, and helped her mother into her dress. Red velvet, strapless and knee length, the dress was stunning, and if she positioned herself skilfully, she would be the first female the Prince caught sight of, putting her ahead of the other, less prepared Saiyan women. A ruby necklace finished the look, and flat slip on shoes -cerise, a darker colour than her outfit- dressed her feet nicely. Maroda made her own lips shine with the mouth-colour sitting on the counterpane, used only for occasions such as this. Delicately pointed nose in the air, she ordered Lushka to dress herself and be ready for their escort, and made her own way down the stairs, the light tap-tap-tap of her shoes warned the slaves to be close by, but not within slapping distance, a distance many of the older -or more careful- slave were experts at judging. ************* The pair made a stunning entrance to the royal docking bay, where the Prince would be arriving in less than an hour; Lushka was dressed in an almost-black, purple material that caught the light and threw it back into the gathered crowds envois eyes. None -she knew and believed- could afford this material, the assembled were made up of commoners, held back behind glass walls as they came from all parts to witness the homecoming of their Prince. The planet had been without King nor Prince since King Vegita's tragic death, and since then the search for the vanished Prince Vegita had undergone a revival, after three years of waiting for their King to produce another heir, not one that goes gallivanting off searching for the mythical "Balls of the Dragon King", the ledged Prince Vegita had believed, and gone to find. The news that the Prince had been located on a distant, mostly-water planet called something like Eaa-arth, had spread like wildfire, and a messenger had been sent to find and retrieve the lost Prince, as it was assumed he had lost any means of transportation back to his rightful kingdom. Everyone expected the Prince they had known, the obdurate, hard faced, and strong Prince Vegita that has left over a decade ago. What they got was Trunks. Lushka saw him first, walking in front of the herald sent to find him, and set a disbelieving look on her face -Who is this child?- until it became obvious no Prince Vegita was going to be emerging any time in the future. Pale hair, blue eyes -Blue? Was he exposed to radiation in the womb?- and a look on his face that said he certainly did not want to be there, caused a stunned silence of the crowd, many mouths hung open. "I introduce to you all." The herald bowed first to the higher born citizens standing behind Maroda -she had managed to position herself so the Prince would see her and her daughter first- and second to the crowds behind the glass walls. "To our new Prince Vegita, our old King Vegita's Grandson, and our rouge Prince's son." The blue eyed boy restrained himself from looking around for the Prince, kept his eyes on the ground as if his shoes -a make Lushka had never seen before, they must be from that water-planet he lived on- were of great interest. A message beeped onto the scouter he wore, instructing him to bow to his people, and Trunks, feeling like a fraud, bowed. The stunned silence wore off, and the crowds cheered, steam from many yelling, breathing Saiyans clouded the glass walls. Maroda swept forward and introduced herself to the young Prince, then half turned and beckoned her daughter, who she now looked on with a greater love, to come and meet the Prince. Lushka looking sweet but feeling sour, dipped gracefully into a curtsey. "Welcome home, Prince Vegita." She said, raising her eyes to meet his own, startlingly blue ones. 


	4. Beginnings

Chapter 4: Beginnings 

Trunks had a headache, and wanted to go to sleep, maybe if his eyes were closed the throbbing pain behind them would go away. The day had been long and full of words he couldn't understand and meanings he didn't want to, but his scouter would flash the words in front of his eyes and inform him he was going to meet Lord what-was-it? Who was his grandmothers cousin how-many-times-was-it? removed on who's side? And he must be polite because his wife- only they didn't call her that, they called her a word that translated into woman-mate and sounded like rrakkahhrn- was a stuffy old bag. Trunks wondered if it had been Parsnal who had told him that, because the rest were being as respectfully anal as he was when he first met Trunks. Trunks felt he'd almost be grateful to see his familiar, big boned, scarred face at the moment, there had been too many new faces tonight, Trunks wanted a bit of familiarly just to confirm that he was still in the same reality as he thought he was, and not drifting through countless realities filled with nothing-behind-the-eyes faces who spoke to him with words that made little sense. Where was the Prince they kept talking about? He sounded like someone people would fear, the way they looked when his name- no, not his name, these people called him Prince Vegita- was spoken said there was fear there, relief, but fear. 

Why were they scared of him? Weren't Prince's the sort of people that ruled with a kind hand and that other people liked? No, not here. Here they were people who were needed to keep a planet together, bound with ropes of obey-me-or-loose-body-parts subordinance. Here they were people who had to wear blue black spandex and blood red cloaks and have their hair pulled to the back of their heads so it wouldn't get tangled up with the heavy golden crown that was probably half the reason for his headache. Here Prince's were looked up at because the body belonging to the eyes was flat on the floor in 'respect' and the eyes never met his anyway.

How long had this been going on since he landed? He and Parsnal had been up and busy for hours before they landed, and Trunks hadn't even seen a bed here yet. How long? Was it twice or thrice that the harsh Saiyan sun had risen? 

He was glad of the throne, it wasn't padded, because it wasn't made to be comfortable in, but it was doing a good job of substituting for his backbone at the moment, because his had up and left. He disguised a yawn, and did a pretty good job, a habit he'd picked up from his mother. 

_Bulma... _

No, he mustn't think about her now. Someone was speaking to him, and the heaven sent words appeared on the scouter. "You falling asleep at the Tournament tomorrow will cause a great deal of havoc, and I think we can do without. No eligible young Lady will want to marry a Prince who falls asleep over dinner. I'll show you to your chambers, because I dare say you've forgotten the way." Trunks blinked at the large, moving flesh coloured blob in front of his face, and it transformed into Parsnal, looking serious, although his eyes showed a flicker of laughter at a private joke that Trunks didn't notice, because he was relishing in the fact that he would finally get to sleep! 

Parsnal announced to the room that the Prince would be leaving now, and the entire contents of the room knelt or lay on the polished floor, depending on their rank. Trunks managed to keep his head high so he wouldn't have to look at the faces, although this wasn't the appearance giving off; it looked like poise. 

"He is our Prince." Said the people after he'd gone. "He will do great things for this planet. Look at the way he holds himself. He is our Prince." 

*************

The night passed too quickly, and he was woken at dawn, when the heavy curtains at his window began to show a little light around the edges. Four male servants stood at the foot of his bed, two watching him, two with their back to him watching a female servant light the huge fire in the hearth, then scuttle out and return with a large tray of food. She placed the tray at the foot of his bed then bowed low, the four watched her as she exited again, returning a few moments later with an armful of clothes. 

Trunks blinked, as he slowly woke up, he didn't usually take this long to become fully conscious of his surroundings. The few times he had had to be awake suddenly were more then enough training, whenever he woke back home, he was always wide awake the moment his eyes opened. 

Back home. Trunks remembered where he was, and swallowed an It-wasn't-a-dream moan. Damn. He sat up in the huge bed, 

"This is the food Your Majesty shall eat. These are the clothes Your Majesty shall wear. If anything else is desired, we will produce it." The four men chorused, it sounded wrong, so wrong. The girl stayed silent. 

*_A ride home_* Thought Trunks wistfully.

"An escort round the Palace will be provided after Your Majesty has eaten. Be aware that after this day you shall dine at the head of the Table, with the Palace's Lords, the Council and members of the Court." The four chorused again. "Your Majesty's escort will inform you of the rest of the day's activities."

The shortest of the four stepped forward, producing a pronged spoon_- *spork_?* Thought Trunks- and took a sporkfull of each of the dishes on the sliver tray. 

_*I have a taster*_ Trunks though, *_How...encouraging_* 

The man straightened, then nodded, indication he tasted no poison in the meal. They stood there, unmoving, watching him with black eyes. Trunks shivered. He didn't want an audience while he ate and dressed. 

"I don't need your help with eating or dressing," Trunks said firmly, dismissing the servants, in the way Parsnal had made him practise. They bowed to him in turn, and left the room single file, the girl last. 

"Thank you." Trunks said politely as they left. The men stopped and bowed again, and a look of surprise, no, shock, crossed the girl's face. She forgot whom she was serving for a moment and looked up into his face, then scuttled out red cheeked. Trunks realised she wasn't as young as he thought, but was probably in her mid twenties, just short, and to thin. 

Trunks ate, then looked at the clothes in distaste. He would rather wear his own clothes, or something of the servants, because wearing this royal garb he would be very conspicuous. *Well, with this hair* Thought Trunks, *What's the point?* He dressed in the clothes she'd provided, and was struggling with the clasp of his royal blue cloak when his escort arrived. 

"Parsnal!" He exclaimed, and grinned, as the only familiar face in this place walked in the door.

"Hello, my Prince." Parsnal bowed, not as low as anyone else had been bowing, and more informal, done out of duty when neither party saw any need. 

"Are you the escort?" Trunks asked, as he finally got the clasp sorted out. *Good,* he thought, when Parsnal nodded. *He'll be too occupied talking about everything I'll be able to get a proper look around. The more I know this place, the easier it will be to get home, or even send a message.*

"If you are ready, then we'll go. We have to make a stop before we get the tour underway. You'll excuse the lack of procession, but many of the officials only flew in for Your Majesty's welcome, and flew back to their home fronts, riots and the like had to be kept under control." Parsnal beckoned for them to begin walking down the long and lonely corridor, as he explained the planets state, and the empty corridors that had been brimming with activity the night before. It sounded a bit like a seesaw, thought Trunks as he spoke, both sides not heavy enough to shift the others weight, yet of one backs down the other rises. 

"There are two groups, the Rebels, and the smaller but equally powerful group of the Planet Vegita's Council. The Rebels are unruly in the most part, but their riots are terribly organised, they have a leader- the Rat, the Council has named him- in their midst somewhere, he's yet to be found. Once the Rat has been executed the Rebels will fall into a state of disarray, giving the Council time to squash the rebels flat before a new Rat rises.

"Riots, strikes, raids of the Council Houses in each city, have diminished our profits made from the few groups who are still willing to work. Your Majesty knows of our work, of course, no planets have been pillaged or raided since the Rebels, our main working force, began rebellion against the Council. 

"These rebels must be gotten under control, as the Arkosian people, who supply most of our technology, are demanding more money than we have to give them, not with the Rat to disrupt the workers. The Council's power is not strong enough to force them to work, not so many. It is though that they rebel because of the Council, many dislike their methods and are not powerful enough to usurp the Council's seats, but powerful enough to cause great havoc. We are hoping having a Prince on the Throne will change this."

"If the Arkosian people are not paid by this mid-year, they will declare a state of war on our planet, one we are sure to loose if the Rebels still roam free, the Arkosian technology is far greater than ours" Parsnal spat, hating the weakness of his planet he was admitting, "their numbers exceed ours also, and in the streets it is said the Rat has an alliance with the Arkosian Emperor. The Council cannot victor over both the Arkosian's and the Rat's Rebels."

"Most officials will return for Your Majesty's coronation ceremony tonight." Parsnal finished shortly, as if annoyed, after giving the longest speech Trunks had heard from him in a long while. Trunks was relived, a procession was the last thing he wanted, and they both were aware of it.

Trunks walked in front of Parsnal, as a matter of rank and tradition the man enforced, Trunks had to stop at each intersection in the halls for a signal of which way to next turn, and there were many.

It took little over a few minutes, minutes of thoughtful silence, to get to where Parsnal was leading -though he was leading from behind- A door adjoining the Palace to another very impressive building, Trunks could see the long walk from that house, that mansion, raised on impressive looking supports, through the glass wall looking out onto the was-probably-a-lawn-once that lay between. The walk was not made of glass, although it had a few windows, someone, or many someone's, were walking down it.

Parsnal knocked heavily on the door, his fist clanging against the metal as his knuckle-guards hit it. The door was opened by one of the invisible slaves Trunks only noticed because he wasn't trained not to, and a woman Trunks vaguely recognised stepped out. High, defined cheek bones, and a nose constantly looked down by two very dark eyes; she had been at the front of the crowd when he'd first arrived. Her daughter stepped out from behind her and they both curtsied. 

"Prince Vegita, you will remember Madam Maroda, highest Lady of our city, and her daughter, Mistress Lushka." Parsnal introduced the pair. "Lushka will be joining our tour."

Madam Maroda sailed up to Parsnal and wrapped long slim arms around him. "My lord Parsnal, you have been absent from my life for ever so long. You know I would have followed you to Eaa-arth in your search, as my body follows my heart and my heart is bound to you wherever you may wander, for all the eternities. But for the care of my loved child I would have joined you." She poured verbal honey in his ears, then leaned closer and whispered. "Allow me to make it up to you tonight."

Trunks was ten, he couldn't take it. He turned to Lushka, poked two fingers down his throat and gagged silently, showing his disgust, he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, the message clear; Gross!

Lushka looked absolutely appalled. Her eyes were wide and she nearly took a step backwards from him, so unused to this behaviour was she. It passed, and she stifled a giggle with a finely gloved hand. 

Encouraged, Trunks put a hand on his throat and mimed strangling himself, Lushka had to try even harder to prevent the giggles from escaping. Parsnal turned round and glared at him, Trunks stopped.

The tour began, and with it a friendship that would change lives.


	5. Whispers of a Deadly Secret

****************_Chapter 5~ Whispers of a Deadly Secret************___

The dusty red sun was beginning to set as Parsnal left Trunks in the hands of those who would ready him for the coronation, seven of the highest ranking servants, and four armoured guards, clothed in red and gold armour, showing they served the Prince. The five of the seven servants had a band of gold from one shoulder to their opposite hip, showing the same thing, the other two had blue strips, a sign they worked for the Council. Parsnal knew it would be these two the guards would be keeping their eye on the most. 

"Come, Lushka." Parsnal said, beckoning her to follow as he escorted her back to her mother's rooms.

She picked up her heavy skirts and trotted after him till she caught up. "Lady Lushka." She insisted, walking beside him.

"Ha! A child such as you has yet to meet the standards of a Lady." He snorted, setting a fast pace to make it deliberately difficult for Lushka to keep up.

Lushka frowned, her elegant brows knotting together, he was referring to her chest size, again, and she knew it. "You will call me Lady when I am Queen. You will bow before my feet and call me Majesty." Lushka spoke with absolute confidence, she gave him a you're-not-worth-my-time look, one that included an eye roll.

"Until that day, child, keep up the acting, he was fooled."

*I wasn't acting* Lushka thought in defence, though she knew to be lying to herself, she glared at Parsnal but he wasn't looking. *I was not fully feigning friendship, I was...* "Who are you to speak of the Prince so informally." The girl changed the subject rapidly, " 'he', what happened to 'His Highness'? You cannot think getting close to Prince Vegita will earn you a closer seat to the throne."

"Can't I?" Drawled Parsnal, then called to a guard dressed in Council blue. "Take the young Lady home." He ordered.

"Indeed I was sent to find her, milord." The guard bowed to both of them. "Come, milady, you mother wishes you to begin preparations for tonight." He swept a hand forward, indicating that Lushka walk ahead of him. Without a second glance at Parsnal she stuck her nose in the air and stalked off, an air of bruised dignity about her.

Parsnal almost mirrored her action, after watching the guard disappear as the hallway curved back towards the east, where Lady Maroda's rooms lay. He did not poke his nose in the air, but he stalked off in the opposite direction. He too had plans to ready for tonight.

Trunks sat in some unfamiliar room, wearing unfamiliar clothes. He had been washed, dried, dressed, plucked, preened, brushed, shoed, he had new gloves, black ones, and black boots also. He was wearing a red shirt and breeches that fit so perfectly he knew he was going to have trouble getting out of them, the clothes had been practically sewed on him. Over top of his red, he wore a gold tunic that stopped mid thigh, belted by a black belt with a silver clasp. A cloak of more gold and red fell off his shoulders. 

The servants dressed him, the same four he had seen that dawn, while the fifth, the female who had bought his breakfast, worked on his hair. Trunks sat still under the eyes of Lady Maroda, eyes that said if he moved of protested he would get it. They did not say what he would get, and Trunks was unwilling to find out. *Let them trust me to keep still.* He though. *And they will begin trusting me with more.*

"What colour scouter will he be wearing?" Maroda's sharp voice cut the silence in the spacious room.

"Red, milady." Said the female. Trunks made a mental note to find out her name, and the other four names, he couldn't keep calling them The Female, Bulky Arms, Crew Cut, Halftail and The Short One, it wasn't right.

"This will all clash horribly with his hair, you know that?" Maroda asked, in accusing tones.

The female nodded slightly, and Maroda looked down her pretty long nose at the shorter woman. "So dye it, black." Said Maroda. "Begging my Lord's pardon, but Your Highness's first royal presentation says a good deal about Your Highness's palace to the visiting Lords. The dye will wash out, I dare say ladies will swoon over Your Majesty's natural colour." She noted, and shooed Crew Cut off to find some black hair dye.

"I must leave to finish my daughters preparations." Maroda said. She curtsied to Trunks. "I look forward to seeing my Lord tonight, Prince Vegita." She said, and, her voice quiet, she said to the female servant; "I trust you shall not make a mess of his lordship's hair, girl. One drop out of place and the whole palace will know exactly who you are." The female shuddered and curtsied low, her throat closed in terror at the threat.

Trunks frowned in confusion, what had she meant by that?

"Miss?" He asked, not knowing how else to address her. The girl snapped her head towards him, and curtsied again. 

"Yes milord?" Her voice was small and shaky. 

"What is your name?" Trunks asked, taking her by surprise.

"Names are not for the serving class, milord, names are for nobles, and royalty."

"So your parents never gave you a name? Surely you call yourself something, all four of you." Trunks insisted.

The three males chorused, "no milord." The female saying the same just after, shaking her head as well, eyes on the floor. They were lying, Trunks could tell, no one could go nameless, even the androids had had to call themselves something. People went mad, else. Maybe it was different with Saiyan's, but he wouldn't believe that.

**************

An hour later Trunks stood in front of the long mirror, his now black hair pulled tightly back in the same style as the previous night, in a pony tail in the very centre of the back of his head, all hairs accounted for within the gold band that kept his hair together. The female was on her knees as his side, straightening the tunic out. "Very nice Prince Vegita." Trunks saw Parsnal in the mirror as he came in, and turned to greet him. "It is very nearly time to go. Guests will begin arriving in under an hour, and you need to be seated at the throne to greet them as they arrive." Parsnal said. "Is he ready?" He asked the female.

Trunks interrupter before she could say anything. "Yes yes, I couldn't be more ready if I tried. Let's go." He urged, sick of being treated like...well, a prince.

Parsnal almost-smiled in what looked like amusement. "Very well." He said. "Have his Majesties room ready for when he returns." He told the female, who hadn't said a word since Trunks had asked her her name, although he had tried to make her talk, and the others, but they remained stubbornly silent but for 'yes milord' and 'no milord'. She curtsied deeply, and he gave her a meaningful look Trunks couldn't fathom.

"Come prince Vegita." Parsnal said, and Trunks, giving her a confused What Was That Look About? look, left before him. Parsnal followed, but turned his head over his shoulder to look back at her once more. "Mess this up and the secret's out." He said quietly, making sure Trunks was out of earshot. The same look came over the female's face as after Maroda's threat. She nodded her head obediently, eyes closed. 

"Parsnal?" Trunks asked, after realising the man wasn't following him. Parsnal turned back to Trunks.

"At your service, your Majesty."

*************

Feelings? Thoughts? Comments? Criticism? Please


	6. Coronation

A/N: I think I've sorted out the format thing, at least, I hope I have, sorry about that all, i replaced chapter five so it's easier to read, so that's all good. Thank you Penchy-chan, for the review, that made my day, good to know someone's reading my stuff. Yay! I have style and diction (good diction, even better ^_^) That made my day. And all of Assena's reviews, of course ^_^ So I got to writing the next chapter (this one) and it's even got Gohan in it ^_^ and I'm even half way through the one after that. I'd upload two at once, but it's sunny outside and there's berries that need a'picking, so you'll have to wait ^_^

*******Chapter Six~Coronation*******

*************

Gohan landed gently behind Bulma, so as not to jar his aching shoulder. Even the slight shock sent from his toes as they hit the soft dirt threw a jolt of pain up his side.

Bulma was kneeling in the dirt on the edge of the crater, looking down at the crash site. Her shoulders were shaking, one hand was clutching at the dirt at her side. Gohan thought she was crying silently, until she turned round. He almost flinched. Her face was contorted with fury, her eyes were flaming. Had she been a ki fighter her hair would have been flying round her face, the dirt would be filling the air, and the wind would have been picking up to typhoon speeds. Had she been saiyan, there was a good change here eyes would be green.

As it was, she was thoroughly pissed. 

She stood up, hearing his soft landing behind her. "And where were you?!" She screamed. "You! You who could have done something! I bet you felt them land!" Bulma glared daggers at Gohan, daggers and pitchforks and carving knives. Gohan held up his hands, to calm her down or protect himself. 

"Bulma! Please, calm down. I couldn't to anything. Not without deserting dozens of helpless people." He said, keeping his voice level.

Deep down, Bulma believed him, but that was deep within her. She'd believe him later, but at this moment she needed someone to blame. "What about my son!" She shrieked.

Gohan took hold of her shoulders. "Bulma, listen. Trunks is your son, and Vegita's, remember that. Do not forget it. Trunks can take care of himself for now. He's not helpless and he's not stupid."

Bulma was silent as she battled with herself over control of her anger and control of the tears that were welling up behind it. Her voice cracked when she next spoke. "I...I know he's not. But Gohan...Have you ever seen a crater like that before? You would have been six, I think...The crater Vegita's ship made when he landed was just like that one. It was!" She repeated, as if he needed convincing. Gohan remembered, he'd gone with his dad to investigate the new power. 

"Saiyans were here." Bulma continued. "And now they're gone, and Trunks is gone too." Her bottom lip trembled, and Gohan shifted his hands from her shoulders to put his arms around her. "It's not fair." Bulma mumbled, her voice muffled by his shoulder, thankfully not the one the androids had happened to. She didn't move for a few minutes, Gohan managed to sit her down on a nearby tree that had toppled over. 

"We'll follow them." She exclaimed, lifting her head from his shoulder and wiping her upset blue eyes. "I'll build a space ship and we'll follow them. No! Vegita's is still here somewhere, we can do that up. Then we can tail the ship and get Trunks back. And you can show them the meaning of the word fair! No one messes with the Briefs! Or Son Gohan! We'll show them what for!" Bulma had that look about her. Her 'Woman On A Mission, Get Out Of My Way If You Ever Want Children' look. You didn't mess with a look like that, Gohan knew that. He wasn't stupid either. But he also knew he couldn't leave Earth, not until the androids were just another pile on the scrap heap.

"Let's go home, Bulma." He said, which wasn't an answer either way. He stood up, pulling Bulma gently with him, she didn't protest.

"Yes. I must get back to my lab. I must remodel Vegita's ship." Bulma sounded as if she was in some kind of trance. She knew what she would do, and was determined to see it through to the bitter end.

It was the bitter that Gohan was worried about.

*************

Far away, in the great hall of Vegita, the capital city of planet Vegita, the crowds gathered to witness the spectacular all-day all-night festival -Vegita's Festivities, they called it- that came with the crowning of their Prince Vegita. Saiyan's had a certain lack of imagination when it came to names.

The common folk of the city, and the many cities nearby, and those who had travelled so long just to be here this wondrous night, all gathered in the streets, swarming, drinking ale, yelling and breaking into friendly fights every half block. Today was the day of celebration, of the beginning of the end of the riots against the Council, for now they had a Prince they would be united by one ruler. No more wars -although a good fight they may be- that left the country scarred and barren, no more famine from the unforgiving ground, and no more hunger! This last promise was defiantly the most cheered among the saiyans. Very few of them understood the state of politics on their own planet, that the Rat, Rebel leader and the Rebel followers, had to be completely squashed before work could be as it once was, and trade of technology with the Arkosian's could be restored. Only then would the famine cease.

This had not been made public knowledge, all the saiyans knew was that they were hungry. It was a foolish move on the Council's behalf to keep the knowledge of the entire situation under wraps, perhaps if the Council had told them that the Rat was behind their lack of food, the commoners would not stop hunting him.

But the Council wanted the Rebel's bought to justice by their Prince. No one else. Their pigheadedness -with all due respect to pigs- was causing the people to go hungry.

A whisper was floating over the crowd. He's coming. Faces turned to face the tower and the balcony on which their Prince Vegita would make his first appearance as legal Prince. The red curtain was pushed aside and Parsnal, someone of little interest to the crowd, stepped onto the balcony, holding the curtain back for the one they'd all come to see. Prince Vegita. Golden crown on his head and royal livery on his chest. Yes, they said, this was their Prince.

Trunks was pushed onto the balcony by the official's accusing stares behind him, and was cheered on by the people, -faces of pink and brown smudges- below. He looked down and froze. He hadn't known so many people existed, let alone how they could all fit into one place. Many seemed to be standing on each other, but the annoyed shouts were lost in the tumultuous cheers that broke out when he appeared.

Trunks had to swallow hard, and remind himself to keep standing. He clenched his fists together and threw his head back, powering up. This, Parsnal had said, backed by nods of all the Council and Court members, was how a Prince greeted his new people.

His cloak flew out behind him, trying to escape, the wind picked up it's feet and wailed and roared in the banners, having a wonderful time in all the hanging royal livery. Trunks had his eyes shut as he concentrated hard, he must not let his power run away with him, he knew that no ten year old saiyan could be as strong as he was, and he did not want the planet to know his true power. The less they knew about him the more power he had over them. If a surprise burst of power could end up getting him out of here we was willing to keep his power compressed now.

The yells from below, and the impressed applause from behind him, grew louder. Many would be complaining of sore throats on the morrow. Very few of the people below had any money to but scouters with, but a large screen behind and above Trunks displayed numbers Trunks couldn't read, yet, which seemed to impress them all. Trunks let it drop, the cloak fell back into place on his shoulders and his black hair, the front half of which had broken free of it's bonds to the back of his neck, settled down neatly into place.

The ceremony had been very long, a lot of people who were probably very important seemed to think they were brilliant speakers and droned on for years with their speeches of his forefathers. Trunks had to keep pinching himself to keep awake, and when it came time for him to accept the crown he had to try not to look like a person waking from a long nap.

"Now." Parsnal said over the roars from below. "We get drunk, and celebrate until we can't get up again!"

And until the early hours of the morning, that was a pretty accurate description of what the saiyans did.

The nobles were putting on a feast of epic proportions, and just as Trunks had never known so many people existed, he was just as surprised to find so much food all in one place. He'd only ever dreamed of this much food. Most of it was forms of meat, although there was a good variety of fruits, and a few vegetables that Trunks tried not to laugh at the shape of. However most of the vegetation was only there to accompany the meat, and much of it was soaked in fat, while still managing to taste good. More fruit had been used in the wine and ale than was on the table.

Trunks nearly choked on his first sip of saiyan ale, although it was cold, it burned down his throat, warming him all the way to his stomach. It was incredibly bitter as well, Trunks's eyes flew open as his throat protested against such treatment and his stomach retched. Parsnal, who has just skulled a glass twice the size of the one he'd offered Trunks, gave him a funny look. Trunks swallowed the bile in his throat with another sip of the ale, then discreetly poured it under the table when no-one was watching, and managed to avoid drinking anymore.

A lot of nobles and Councilmen came and congratulated him on his powering-up display, although whether they did so out of routine or actually meant what they said, Trunks couldn't tell.

*************

Deep inside the Palace, in the badly lit, cold servants quarters, the sound of metal upon metal rang through the empty hallways. Only one person was down here, the rest of the servants were serving upstairs or joining in the common folks festival. Long hair hung over the face, and white, long fingered hands worked the knife against the sharpener, honing the blade to a deadly edge. The hands were pale, as if they didn't see sunlight enough, but the palms were hard with work, they resembled any Palace servant's hands. 

With on last strike through the sharpener, the left hand picked up the knife and sliced through the air with it. The blade whistled with the speed of the arm that held it.

It's sharpness was tested against the wood of the floorboards under the table, with one hack the blade cut two inches into the wood. 

The arm was strong. The blade was sharp.

Perfect.

*************

Maroda watched Prince Vegita leave, and nudged at Lushka who was half asleep at her left elbow.

"Wait a few minutes, then follow him." She whispered, looking at the door Trunks and the guards has exited through.

Lushka rose to tell her friends she was retiring for the night, then disappeared out the door.

*************

Trunks stumbled with exhaustion back to his room, and his two escorts following him were stumbling with the drink, which had appeared to be enormously popular and had left Parsnal -among many others- passed out over the long table.

Trunks yawned massively and opened the huge door to his room, which required more effort than his door at home because of it's size and thickness. The guards took up their watch, one on each side of the door in the hall as Trunks closed the door.

He stripped out of the clothes and into some odd looking pyjamas he found in the tall closet. There were no servants in his room, for which he was grateful, he was sick of being waited on, glad to do something for himself for once.

The bed had been made, and he crawled into it as tired as he had the night before. Due to his sleepiness, the bed was as welcomingly comfortable as before too. 

Yet, he couldn't sleep, he closed his eyes and tried to, but his thoughts were on Earth, his real home, no matter what the saiyans said. He wondered what his mother was doing, what she thought of his disappearance, Trunks wished there was someway to tell her he was alright.

And Gohan, he missed Gohan. Sure, Parsnal was someone to talk to, and told him more about his father than Gohan could, and Lushka was friendly enough, but she was a girl.

Something outside his room went thwomp, and the beginnings of a yell were abruptly cut off. A second thwomp. 

Trunks sat up, wondering what the noise meant.

The door creaked open. A small dim ray of light from flaming torches spilled into the room. Trunks abruptly lay down and closed his eyes without a sound, feeling as if he ought to be asleep, and slightly guilty that he wasn't.

He could sense the presence in the room, but wasn't familiar enough with anyone except Parsnal to know who it was by their small ki. It wasn't Parsnal, that was obvious, the figure was a lot smaller, lithe, and approaching quickly.

Trunks opened one eye. She'd gone. He didn't have a good feeling about this.

Something glinted in the pale light from the hall, something metal and travelling fast down towards him. He bolted, grabbing the sides of the bed and throwing himself out of it. There was the sound of the knife slitting open the mattress and the whomp of the person hitting the bed with force. 

Her furious eyes turned towards him, there was too much shadow falling over the features for Trunks to get a proper look. She leapt off the bed and flew over his head -he was sprawled on the floor but quickly getting up- and hit the door hard, closing it and shutting out all light. 

**************

Duh duh duuuh!

If I ask you to review again, will you? 

Keep on reading people, it's only getting better! Actually, it's getting damn harder to write, as the complications arise and I have to keep track of everything, gah! But I like a challenge...I guess

It's a challenge getting you lot to review, but I'll leave my none so subtle hints now, and go outside in the sunlight *oooohs and aahhhhs*


	7. The Writing on the Wall

Chapter seven: The Writing on the Wall

**************

You know what I keep forgetting? A Disclaimer, I think I put one in the first chapter but not the last few, well, you know I don't own dbz, otherwise I'd call myself Akira Toriyama and get lots and lots of review because people read famous people's work. I, however, and not famous yet (though when I'm a famous author I'm gonna come back here and see what fanfictoins people are writing with my characters, but that probably wont be for a long while yet (like, one year, at least) 

What I'm trying to say: If I had a million dollars. I'd be rich.

No that's not it al all…I've taken up too much space here, read!

************

The room was filled with darkness, and a silence that thickened the dark. Trunks slowed his breathing, trying not to make a sound, and shifted one foot backwards, moving into a fighting stance. It wasn't Gohan's fighting stance, which was the only one Trunks knew, and the one he imitated most often. His own was more front on than side on. He felt stronger, the stance felt better, more...more saiyan. More like Vegita's.

The room was silent for so long Trunks began wondering if he had been asleep and dreamed it. But no, there was the faint presence of someone else in the room, but where?

Hidden in the absence of light, the young woman bearing the knife waited for the moment when the Prince would drop his guard. Her chest moved up and down in a near soundless pant, she almost felt she was breathing through her skin. But this was the way her father had taught her to move, unheard, unnoticed. She closed her eyes and thought a small prayer in the direction of her father, so far away. Father, Daddy, give me the courage to do what has to be done. Then, trying to convince herself not to back out at this crucial moment, If I can't do this Daddy, they'll tell the Council who you are. They'll find you. Find, was not the only thing they'd do, and she knew it. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small glass trinket stolen precisely for this moment, with a flick of her wrist she sent it to the other side of the room.

Something crashed onto the ground behind Trunks. He spun around.

She leapt forward, aiming to pin him to the ground first. But Trunks was quicker than that. He had caught the sound of her soft footsteps, and had continued spinning round until he almost faced her. Using arms for balance he bought up his right leg to kick her, aiming for her stomach. He hit ribs, and heard one crack. She's small. He thought, as she hit the large wardrobe.

Trunks knew he shouldn't be panting for breath, he'd hardly done anything, but the fear of the unknown was making cold sweat break out on his forehead. He paused only for a moment after he heard her collide with the wall, what he needed was light. But he knew that if he powered up he wouldn't be able to feel her at all. He backed up slowly, hoping he was backing in the direction of the door, one hand behind him. 

He heard her get up, something hard hit the ground as she pushed the wardrobe door off her and stood. 

Trunks reached the main door and yanked it open, sliding out the smallest gap possible then slamming the door as hard as he could. The door was heavy, he had to dig his feet into the floor to get it shut, but the floor wasn't cooperating. It slipped out from under him, and he hit the ground chest first. All the air in his chest exited promptly before his hands had time to stop him.

Normal floor does not slip away like that, unless it was a Slippery When Wet type of floor. And yes, the floor was definitely wet.

Trunks looked down; blood. A lot of it. Covering the hall from wall to wall. It thickened round the two guards that had been guarding his room. Their throats had been slit open, the shorter one's head was completely severed from his body. Bile rose again in Trunks's throat, and he scrambled to his feet to get out of the blood puddle.

Something caught his eye before he could obey his first human instincts to run. Words in saiyan scrawled across the wall, written in dripping blood. Trunks shuddered involuntarily, about to be sick. The smell was awful, making the air thick with the stench of death. He'd seen such things before, living with the androids running free, but he had never had to see it up close, smell it, roll in it.

Taking a deep breath through his mouth, Trunks pushed himself up, and with a quick motion opened the door, letting light spill into the room. Cautiously Trunks peered into the room. Fear gone, though disgust remained. Trunks wanted answers.

His room showed obvious signs of a fight, but on first inspection he could see no one. There was only one place she could be hiding, under or behind the bed. Trunks took a step forward, into the room, and someone made a noise behind him, a little intake of breath in shock.

Trunks spun round quickly, again, and faced Lushka who was standing over the bodies, skin pale against her black hair and eyes as she read the writing on the wall. Trunks looked back into the room, not wanting to turn his back on either of them. Still no sign.

"Prince Vegita?" Asked Lushka, who had also seen such things before, and had a tougher stomach than Trunks. "What-?" 

A ball of ki, the size of a pregnant beachball, shattered his door from the inside and smashed into the wall with the writing on it. Turning the words into thousands of blood covered, wooden shards.

Without missing a beat Lushka grabbed Trunks's wrist and pulled him quickly down the corridor. She swerved round the first corner, and kept spinning round until she hit the wall, which wobbled. She kicked the joint where the wall met the floor and it swung into itself. 

"Go." She urged.

"Where-?"

"Please! Go!"

"But I want-" Began Trunks.

"Trust me! Go!"

Trunks dropped into the gap between the wall and the floor, fell two feet, then hit sloping metal in some kind of slide.

The tube tilted downwards with enough room on each side for another person to fit down. It was something like a laundry shoot, but smelt worse. On second thoughts, though Trunks, that's probably all the blood on me. 

Lushka folded her arms across her chest and leaned back into the cold metal of the slide, Trunks was holding out his hands against the walls, trying to slow himself down. It was like trying to slow down a speeding train with a rubber band. 

The tunnel stopped abruptly, Lushka hit the ground at a roll, as if she had practised this before. Trunks hit the ground on his tailbone, and screwed up his face in pain.

"Ow." He said, rubbing his backside. "Thanks." He still felt winded, and sick, but Bulma's lessons on manners shone through. 

Lushka accepted his thanks with a small nod, not used to manners. They were sitting in a small room, windows let a small amount of light in from the top corners of the room. The floor was cold concrete, the walls covered in pictures of dark haired men, and a few women, in royal garb. There were crates cluttering up the walls too, Lushka stood up and perched on one of these, Trunks followed suit, it was more comfortable than the concrete. It was a store room, of sorts, and Trunks kept looking at the shoot, waiting for someone to appear.

"Prince Vegita, what happened?" She asked, looking confused. 

"Someone's trying to kill me." Even saying the words felt strange, unreal. "I was trying to find out who, but then you showed up. She's probably gone now."

"I don't doubt the Council will hunt them down." Lushka said. "Wait-she?"

"I think so." Trunks stared into space, coming to grips with reality. He was a Prince now, and, as Bulma had once said, a long time ago, Well that's what happens when you get famous, you get shot. He was going to have to be extra careful. He didn't want the Council hunting her down, he wanted to find her himself, ask her questions before they got to her. 

"Only one?" Lushka asked.

"I think so." Said Trunks again.

Lushka mused over that. Assassins only got hired if they had a good reputation, they were mostly male, although female assassins were not unheard of. Unless she was acting of her own accord, she was probably very good, and in the world of the underground assassins 'good' meant, 'never misses'. That meant Prince Vegita must be better, a ten year old not-raised-as-a-saiyan boy outwitting a trained assassin. That was unheard of. Lushka came to the conclusion that the assassin was probably trying to kill him for her own reasons, unless...

But that thought was ridiculous. Who would hire an untrained person to do the job of a fully trained assassin? It was stupid.

"Prince Vegita," she began.

"Lushka?"

"Yes?"

"Call me Trunks."

She tilted her head and looked at him curiously for a moment, then smiled. "Certainly. Now, Trunks, you don't know anybody that wants you dead?"

"No." Said Trunks slowly. "I've only been here a couple of days." 

"Mmm." She said. "I have been thinking, and I've come to the conclusion that whoever wants you dead wants as much for either of two reasons. First, is because they want the throne, but I don't see why they're making their move now, when they had all of fifteen years to do so while we were heirless. Besides, anyone wanting you dead for that reason would hire a fully trained assassin, not someone like her, whoever she was. 'Anyone can go after a royals life, only the best of the best can take it'. Old saying."

"I'm not defenceless, you know." Trunks said in an I-can-take-it voice rather like his fathers. He recognised this because he'd used the voice before, and Bulma had pointed out how like his father he sounded. Trunks smiled, not quite having the will for an ironic laugh. Lushka smiled back.

"Alright. What's the second reason?" He asked.

"That this is the work of the Rat, trying to kill you. With the crown Prince dead the Council will be in an uproar trying to work everything out. The Rat and his followers, from what mother has heard at Court, think that with the Prince on the throne their revolution will be put to an end." 

Trunks frowned in thought, something didn't compute, didn't fit properly. "What do the rebels want? Really want, why are they rioting?"

"They don't like the Council ruling the planet." Lushka said automatically.

"But they don't rule, I do." Said Trunks, half forgetting he was getting off the planet at the first available chance. "So if I was dead," -It still sounded strange- "the Council would rule again. They can't want me dead, it doesn't make sense."

Lushka, about to say something, paused in thought. What Pri- Trunks said was true. She hadn't thought about that. 

"Has no one spoken to their leader? Does no one know the reason for their riots?" Trunks asked.

"Why would we talk to them? Each and every rebel is wanted dead." 

Trunks sighed. Lushka sounded genuinely confused about speaking to the rebels. Talking wasn't the saiyan way, Trunks made a mental note to remember that, and another to find out more about the rebels. There was a long, thoughtful silence, broken by Lushka.

"There might be another reason she tried to kill you." Trunks looked up from his swinging feet, which he'd been watching intensely as if they held all the answers. "She could have just wanted you dead, for reason's of her own." Lushka continued. "Who knows what they might be."

"I want to." Said Trunks. "I want to know who she is, and why."

"Then you better tell everyone you want her bought to you alive." Said Lushka. "Else there will be nothing left of her."

"Hm." Said Trunks, then another thought struck him. "Lushka, what did the writing on the wall say?"

Lushka had obviously forgotten to add that into her Who's Trying To Kill The Prince equation. It didn't make any sense, and she told him so.

"Why doesn't it make sense? What did it say?" Trunks asked.

"It doesn't fit into any of the scenarios."

"What did it say!" Trunks ordered, surprised at his own voice.

Lush looked up at him. "Long live the Prince." She said.

*************

Hmmm, curious...

Anyway, thanks Penchy-chan for the review ^_^ About the SSJ thing...well...that would be giving things away if I told you, wouldn't it? *evil snigger* I'll just say that saiyans go super when they're very angry (yes yes, we all know that)... Or when someone close to them dies... So it's going to take something big for Trunks to turn SSJ, he's not one yet...

I like the idea of the saiyans gawking at the prince's mum too, I've already incorporated so many things into the plot that weren't going to be there in the first place (this is the first fic ever when the plot has hit me all in one go) so I reckon i could do that too, since you reviewed so nicely ^_^

I think that this will probably be the last chapter I'll be able to crank out before we go away on holiday, I might get one more written, (we leave on the 24th) theres a small chance of than, but if I don't then I'll be back mid January with many nice new chapters planned out ^_^ do you want me to email you when I get back? 

And if you run out of things to read, theres always my other fics *grin* Sorry, shameless self promotion there...

Merry Christmas all! And a Spilffiliducous New Year! 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: (is it chapter 8 already?)

*************

"She found him." Maroda's voice, even when she wasn't intending it to, cut the air like a knife. Parsnal's head throbbed, sore from too much ale consumed the previous night,blended with the blade of her voice.

"Good." He muttered, to hungover to care. He rolled over, taking the blanket with him.

"Your spies keep well informed Parsnal." Maroda continued as she powdered her face on the opposite side of the room. "To have found out when the first assassination attempt would be. The assassin must have been sloppy." She paused in though for a moment. "In fact, from what I have seen-I oversaw the cleaning of the hall, the opposite wall was completely disintegrated. And his Highness's room was a mess. Our Prince must have put up a fight, which leads me to believe that the assassin wasn't as good as his employer hoped. No-one gets past Planet Vegita's best assassins. We've both seen that."

Parnsal dragged himself out of the bed and sat up, his head spinning. He grunted, as an answer. Yes. We have.

"And, if I may ask, which spy was it, who informed you of this attempt?" Maroda asked, changing slowly into day time clothing. Tight, wine red leggings with an equally tight tunic. (Especially round her chest, Maroda liked drawing as much attention as possible to her 'assets'.)

"He wants his identity kept secret." Parnsal said shortly.

"Well it's a good thing you told me, so I could get Lushka there to meet His young Majesty. Hopefully, by now they shall be bonding, and if all goes according to plan, within as short a time as possible, my own daughter shall be Queen." Maroda smiled and twirled around, her long ebony hair swirling around her, and returning to hang as a dark river down her back. "We'll be able to move properly into the palace and enjoy all the riches and power I should have been born with." Her white teeth glimmered in the morning light. Sweeping half her hair up with one hand she began to brush it into place on top of her head in a twisted bun. "I shall be very gratefull to your mysterious information benefactor. And of course, Lushka's infinite charm and ability to ensnare any male. Which is, in truth, thanks to the skills she inherited from myself." Maroda was still smiling, neat plans in her eyes, she placed one hand on her breast as she said 'myself' and raised her nose into the air.

"Of course, my beauty." Said Parsnal, a little more awake at the sign of Maroda being in a good mood. Good moods lead to other types of moods, in his experience. "Let them bond. We shall send guards to find them, how long do you think we should give them? An hour? Two?"

"Half. Then fetch his Highness for some thing or another." She waved her hand dismissively, not caring what that thing was. "Lushka must stay a little out of reach, just a little, if any man is to desire her." Maroda answered, slipping out the door and closing it behind her. Parsnal winced at the sound, grunted, and went back to sleep.

*************

"What," said Trunks, voicing all his thoughts, "does that mean?"

A thoughtful look took Lushka's dark eyes. "I think," she said slowly, "that the writer was being sarcastic. Though, it is difficult to be sarcastic in writing."

Trunks got up, searching the room for a door. A large crate had been placed over the doorway, obscuring the bottom half of the door from view.

"Where are you going?" Lushka asked. 'We're supposed to be bonding, you're supposed to stay down here, with me.' She thought, annoyed.

"To tell the guards that if they see her, don't hurt her. And I want to search my room for clues." Trunks answered, springing up onto the crate, then reaching down to the door handle and turning. The door swung outwards. Trunks dropped into the doorway, and turned back. "Coming?" He asked.

Lushka wasn't about to say no, if it meant spending time with the Prince. She sprung herself lightly onto the crate and followed -then lead, because he did not know the way- Trunks back to his room.

*************

"We'll find nothing here." Lushka stated, as they looked over the hall opposite the Prince's bed chamber. The wall was squarely removed, all of it. The blood and bodies on the floor had been disposed of. There were another two guards, not standing at the door but talking in loud saiyan by the wall. Not a shard of wood was lying on the clean floor. "The inside will be the same."

It was, the guards bowed at the pair as they entered, then returned to their conversation. The room was as tidy as if prepared for a new guest. A new -un-shattered, of course- wardrobe had been delivered, and sat neatly in place of the old. Just as the mattress had been replaced. The floor was as clean as the hall, and bathed in the light of many candles held in many large lanterns.

'If we had returned faster...' Thought Trunks, disappointed. He stifled a yawn, then shook his head to clear the sleepiness from his head, and turned back to the two guards. "Excuse me." He said, allowing their scouters to do the translating, his own abandoned somewhere in the room. "Did you do this?"

"Na, yure 'ighness." Answered the guard. "Tis the work of the Krinchi, us're only watchers."

"Krinchi, higher servants." Piped up Lushka, desperate not to be forgotten. "Those that wait upon Your Majesty and on other Lords of the house." Wisely she addressed Trunks in formal tones in public, first names and title-dropping was for in private.

"Yeah." Agreed the other guard. 

"Have you found any clue as to who the assassin was? Anything at all." Trunks asked, raising both his eyebrows. The guards exchanged amused glances.

"Nothin' of 'is identity, 'is whereabouts." Said the first guard. " 'e disappeared, slippery bugger." 

'Just how much earth-tongue did the saiyans keep on their scouters?' The though crossed Trunks's mind briefly, before it turned back to his interrogation.

"One of those Krinchi was yapping on 'bout somet'ing in the wardrobe, yure 'ighness." The first guard spoke again. "If it'd been important, I would'a known."

Trunks's eyebrow raised higher in interest. "Where can I find them?"

The second guard gave a loud snort of laughter. "Meanin' no disrespect, young Prince. But the Krinchi find you."

'That sounded almost sinister.' Thought Trunks, although he was more amused than worried. 

"He means they come when called." Lushka explained, still trying to remind everyone of her existence. "Shall I summon one, Highness." 

Trunks nodded. "Yes." Any clue would be welcome. Trunks was not used to letting things happen around him, or rather, he hated letting things happen around him. 'No Trunks. You're _not_ strong enough to fight them.' His mother's voice rang in his head, speaking of the androids, of course. This only bought up thoughts of Gohan, as well as his mother, and of home.

Again, this was not the time. Trunks set his mind, but another thought crossed it. Why do I want to know? Why do I care? She tried to kill me, why do I want to know who she is?

His smaller, slightly more mature voice answered.

Because I need to know. Just like with the Rebels. And I want to. I can't do anything if I don't understand what's going on.

I thought I just wanted to go home. Trunks was confused. He didn't know what he thought. 

That wasn't quite true, he knew he though sleep would be a good idea right about now.

Yes. But there's going-on's here that need to be sorted out. Then I can go home.

Trunks didn't have any reply to that, except a childish But I wanna go home NOW! Which he didn't dignify with a though-answer. He did want to home, he'd established that already. And he would, but now that there had been an attempt on his life, that felt like running away...

A young Krinchi dressed in brown and blue hurried round the corned, and bowed to Trunks, then Lushka. 

"Yes, Nobles?" He asked, eyes on the ground.

"You were involved in the cleaning of the Prince's chamber." Lushka stated, taking charge as she, Trunks and the Krinchi moved off a way down the hall.

"Yes milady." He said cheerfully, seeming perfectly happy with the position he was in. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"What did you find in the wardrobe?" Trunks asked. "One of the guards said you were talking about something you found."

"Indeed Milord. He spoke the truth." The youngster dug around in his pocket. "They thought someone might ask about this, so they sent me with it." He said, pulling out a sliver chain and holding it out to Trunks. Trunks took it, looking at it in the palm of his hand. It looked like a bracelet, made of many small heavy silver rings joined together. 

"It's one of the Krinchi's bracelets, Trunks." Lushka whispered in his ear. He looked at her.

"If milord is concerned about the identity of the assassin, all that is needed to be done is search the Krinchi for one who does not bear a bracelet." The young Krinchi grinned, holding up his own arm to show an identical chain.

"How long does it take to search the entire palace?" Luskha asked, hinting at Trunks. 

"An hour, milady, at the longest." He looked at Trunks, waiting for the order.

"Ah, Prince Trunks." The deep voice echoes through the hall, as Parsnal strode towards the trio, Maroda behind him. "You're needed elsewhere. The Council have scheduled a training session to familiarise yourself with our Saiyan battle style."

Trunks's muscles twitched at the suggestion of a good spar, but his eyelids felt heavy, he had, after all, had very little sleep last night. He turned to the Krinchi boy. "Yes. Search the Krinchi. But when you find one of you without a bracelet, don't hurt her, just bring her to me, please." 

The Krinchi bowed and ran off.

"Parsnal." Trunks admitted, after Maroda had gripped Lushka's shoulder and lead her back to their rooms. "Do I have to train now. I'm exhausted."

"That much, young Prince, is obvious. There is a training session, but not until later this evening. You have time to sleep until then." Parsnal replied.

"I owe you one." Said Trunks, letting himself into his newly-cleaned room. He was a little nervy about someone jumping out of the shadows brandishing a knife as they tried to kill him, but he was, really, just too tired to care. He collapsed in a dead sleep on the bed, without bothering to undress or even kick off his shoes. 

*************

She ran. 

Dodging everyone in her path, speeding through the streets so fast that she ran into walls more than once when the corners were too sharp. Every time her left foot collided with the ground it sent bolts of pain from her lower ribs. She hid the pain as best she could, biting her bottom lip to keep anything -be it squeaks or screams or pain- from escaping her mouth. Only she could hear the noises in her throat, only she cared.

Her wrist felt wrong without the familiar weight of the bracelet, and her mind was heavy with the images of what would be her fate should she be discovered without one. There had been two options, after she high-tailed it out of the Prince's bedchamber, leave the Palace completely -and go where? Her common sense answered her. She was the Rebel's, the freedom fighter's, main source of Palace information. She couldn't destroy her fathers plans, and leaving the Palace would do that.

So the second option was the one she had chosen. She had wrapped herself in a raggedy cloak, disguising the brown and blue of the Krinchi's uniform, and disappeared from the Palace. Heading for the Rebel's headquarters for this city she took the roundabout rout, taking her longer than she wanted to to reach her destination, but had anyone been following her, she was certain she had lost them.

She stopped abruptly from her run in front of a small, old house which looked exactly like the other small, old houses on either side of it, and all the way down the street. Her right arm automatically wrapped itself round her ribcage, as if it could ease the pain, and her left fist banged on the door four times, then she kicked it gently twice with her foot. 

A small hole opened in the door above her eye level, and a pair of dark eyes looked her over. The door was hauled open and she was dragged in so quickly her breath hissed in between her clenched teeth as she winced. The door was closed with a thud and bolted.

"Sena? What? Wait-" The doorkeeper questioned, then ordered as he lead her into the small room lit with lanterns on thin wall shelves. "Sit." He said shortly.

"I gotta see Pasha, or Toma, or someone." Sena panted, still holding her ribs tightly. "Now." She took a seat gratefully, and caught her breath there.

"Are you ordering me?" The doorkeeper taunted.

"I'll do more than that if you don't find someone NOW!" Sena growled. "Leg it!"

He sauntered off with an air of mock hurt dignity to find Pasha, who had heard Sena's growl from the basement where she was working, and was on her way up. She nodded at the doorkeep, who smiled sleazily at her, and went back to his position.

"What are you doing here?" Pasha asked, seating herself on the other end of the worn grey couch. 

Sena didn't waist time explaining everything, she held out her bare wrist. "You have more Krinchi bracelets?" She asked. "I don't have any time, I have to be back at the Palace before they realise someone's missing." For that would be as disastrous as being caught without a bracelet. The whole Palace, or at least the whole Krinchi community must know by now the Prince's assassin lost a bracelet, therefore anyone without one, or missing completely, was surely responsible.

Pasha disappeared back through the door to the basement without a word. She was familiar with the Palace and the Krinchi, and knew the time it took to search the Palace was hardly any time at all. Not if all Krinchi were searching at once, which they would be. Already she had heard of the attempt at the new Prince's life, and Pasha had a very clever mind in her pretty head, she had already put two and two together, and had an accurate answer.

The few bracelets hidden under Pasha's desk in the floorboards had been Rebel's third in command's idea. Pasha knew Palace Krinchi had access to anywhere in the Palace, and since no one could memorise all their faces, the bracelet was the key. With them, the Rebel's had found their way into the Palace, but Sena was their only full time Krinchi.

"Here." Pasha said, kicking the floorboard back in place. Sena -who had limped her way down the stairs- held out her wrist again for Pasha to fasten the bracelet. The saiyan woman didn't do so immediately. "Why'd you do it?" Pasha asked, looking Sena in the face. "Why'd you try kill him. Do you know how absurdly stupid that was? You're still just a kid, you have no idea how thick you were being, do you?"

"You would have me say no? I had to. His Jerkship was clear, do it else he gives my identity away." Sena snapped back, her night had made her edgy and uncomfortable. " 'sides, he said 'pretend, make him think you're trying to kill him. Do so and you are as dead as if you don't do this.' " 

Pasha didn't understand. Why would he -yes, she knew who 'his Jerkship' was- want the Prince to think someone was trying to kill him? And how did he know Sena's identity?

"I gotta get back." Sena said, looking down. 

Pasha nodded, and took Sena's wrist to fasten the bracelet.

"Make it tighter. The last one didn't break, it slipped off. Damn skinny hands." Sena said, still not having caught all her breath. "Thanks." Sena smiled up at Pasha warmly, the woman was the closest thing she'd had to a mother. 

Pasha sighed. "Go on then. Be bloody careful girl." She said affectionately. Sena ran as best she could up the stairs, and out the door, without looking back. She was running full speed back to the palace before Pasha sat back down at her desk. "Be bloody careful." She repeated to the silence.

*************

Whoohoooo! I'm back! Had a great holiday thanks for asking, now...

Penchy-chan: Woa! You ask a lotta questions! But I'm pretty sure I can answer them all in the fic. Which is good, cos otherwise if I told you you wouldn't need to read anymore, and I wouldn't get any more of you're fabulous reviews!!! Thanks!

Assena, and Merri: Yay you found a computer! Was it hiding? huh? Huh? There you go again reminding me of everything, but trust me, i've actually got this one all planned out (theres a first) well, roughly anyway... ^_^ See you on Saturday, or Sunday!

Mabby: Hey, if you're reading this, you caught up! Yay! Thanks for the Ch 1 review

Taes: Same goes for you Taes! Thanks for the reveiw, thanks for keep reading!

PS: Pasha is a character from Bardock, Father of Goku, the movie, 

PPS: cofcofreviewpleasepleasereviewcofcof

PPPS: sorry, just copying Gandalf from FoTR. The Two Towers is an awesome movie!!!

!! 


	9. And now for an Earthy interlude

Chapter 9 : And now for an Earth interlude

Chichi drooped over the kitchen table like a wilting flower, and yawned heavily. She lowered her head onto the open book she had been reading, and closed her eyes, tired from a peaceful day of gardening and worry for her son. No sight or word from Gohan for almost a fortnight, only the rumours that he was down south, still fighting them. Always fighting them. As much as she hated her son putting his life on the line, she held a certain amount of pride in him, the tones of the peoples voices as they spoke told her what they thought of her son, and then she smiled to herself. 'That's our boy Goku.' She closed her eyes and let herself sleep.

Bdonk.

Chichi jerked awake at the noise from the front door, then still in the trace of one just woken, stood up automatically to let whoever it was in. She woke properly half way down the hall, then froze for a moment. 'Idiot.' She shook her head, and nearly laughed at herself, 'androids wouldn't knock.' And although it had sounded more like something falling than a knock, she continued down the hall, and undid the three latches on the door. It came open without a squeak.

Gohan blinked one eye open as his mother opened the door, and for a dazed moment wondered how she could shift the whole wall, before realising it was just the door. He was leaning up against the doorframe, looking exhausted, and it had been his shoulder hitting the wall that had made the 'Bdonk'.

"Oh Gohan!" Chichi exclaimed, looking at her son, and realising a hug would not be appreciated right now. He'd flown home from a battle not too far off, and looked rather the worse for wear. His orange and blue gi had been almost entirely ripped off his chest, and only hung in a few taters around his left shoulder. He was battered bruised and beat up, to say the least. "Gohan." Chichi repeated. "Come inside. Oh Gohan."

Gohan mumbled something in agreement and let her help him in, and lie him down on the couch. "Thought I'd better come home. Gotta see Bulma." Gohan winced as Chichi applied balm to his ribs, which made the heavy graze sting. Chichi raised an eyebrow. "And you mum." Gohan tried to grin.

"Go to sleep." Chichi said. "We'll see her in the morning."

"I said I'd-"

"Sleep!" Chichi ordered, in her not-to-be-argued-with-on-pain-of-death voice. Gohan smiled, it was good to be home, if only for a while. He went to sleep.

Chichi fought off her own fatigue as she patched and stitched up her son for nearly half an hour. She stood up from her kneeling position beside the couch and looked down at him. 

Snow white- bone white bandages covered half his face and more then half his chest. His left wrist had been broken for sure, but she had straightened and bound it to a splint and it lay by his side as he slept. She wondered if he'd given the androids half of what they'd given him, and hoped he had, they wouldn't sleep well tonight either.

She brushed off her hands, and sighed. "Oh Gohan." She said again. "I am so proud of you." Then she burst into tears.

*************

Gohan woke the next morning to the biggest breakfast he'd had for a very long time. Chichi was bustling round the kitchen making all his favourite dishes at once, no matter if they were not breakfast dishes, she was making them anyway. 

He pulled on a clean blue and white top over the bandages, his mother had gone a little overboard and the stained white gauze made little hills over his chest and ribs. 

"Good, you're up in time." Chichi said, and she placed the first of many courses on the table. "Eat up, you look underfed, have you been taking proper care of yourself? No, don't answer that I might not like it. Eat."

Gohan gladly obeyed, Chichi kept talking. "I was planning to visit Bulma sometime anyway so we can go over as soon as you're ready. She's been really busy lately so we shouldn't stay long." Chichi sat down with her own meal.

"All the more reason to stay longer." Said Gohan. "She needs a break, she'd been working to hard since Trunks disappeared." He finished off a pair of fried eggs. "I'll fly us over."

"Oh no, you're in no condition for that." Chichi said flatly.

"What? So we take the car? I thought that old thing broke down?"

"Mother knows what she's doing Gohan." Said Chichi. "Eat your breakfast."

*************

Two weeks of disturbed sleep, of working every waking moment, of only eating when she remembered, which, if her stomach was lucky, was ordinarily once a day. Bulma had scanned the entire interior and exterior of Vegita's old ship, loaded the network of plans onto two different computers, and had spent the last twelve days on a swivel chair sliding from one computer to the other to compare the data. On no more than three occasions had she misjudged distance and nearly crashed into said computer. She'd fallen in love all over again, with her coffee maker.

The computer sequences were perfect. Bulma turned away from the computers, and opened a window, bright morning light spilled into the dusty lab.

Now it was time to start work on the ship.

*************

Gohan closed his eyes against the cool breeze and warm sun on his face. How long had it been since he had last flown this fast without using any ki? Too long, he decided.

"I can still remember my first flight on Nimbus with your father." Chichi reminisced, clinging tight to Gohan's arm as she watched the ground fly past beneath them. "I was just a little girl, and Goku came flying through the clouds and asked me if my name was Chichi. I thought he was in love with me because he knew my name." She chuckled, then stopped. "Well, I remember earlier that day I had thought Yamcha was in love with me." She shook her head, and Gohan laughed. "Yamcha?"

"Well he said he was!" Chichi laughed too. "Just to side step a beating from me, because he'd knocked me over the head earlier. I was young, and a romantic with a capital, three dimensional R. But we're not talking about that, we're talking about Goku. I remember I used his tail to pull myself up."

Gohan winced, he remembered the sensitivity of a saiyan tail, it wasn't something you forgot. "Poor dad. Look, there's Capsule Corp."

They descended quickly onto Bulma's front porch, and Chichi rang the bell. They were a long time waiting for an answer, and eventually let themselves in.

"Bulma." Chichi called down the empty halls. "It's Chichi and Gohan. Buuulmaaa. Are you home?"

"She'll be down in her labs." Gohan said, knowing it was the truth, and leading the way. 

*************

"Sena!" The bellow from behind Sena made her slow to a halt as she recognised the familiar voice. She spun round on the dusty, crowded street and searched for the voices owner. The tall scar-face male saiyan was also slowing from a run as he caught up.

"Toma," panted Sena, she was not unfit, but had sprinted all the way from the palace and was more than halfway back. "What?"

"You completely ran past me back at Pasha's." Toma said, coming closer to make it more difficult for anyone to overhear. "Look, I know what you tried to do, I overheard that much. The Prince is important Sena, he could help us if the Council doesn't get to him first." His voice was an urgent hiss, very hard to lip-read, and tricky to pick out exact words unless they were directed straight at you. 

"I wasn't going to ki-" Sena began, but Toma waved a large rough hand.

"Yes yes, I know. I just wanted to tell you- talk to him, get him to trust you, if he's on our side we've all but won." He looked down at her doubtful face with his dark and serious eyes. 

"If he recognises me..." Sena began, and neither needed to finish the sentence.

"If he does he does. It's what-"

"-father would want, why I was placed here, the only way, I know, I know." Sena said, having heard the it's-what-your-father-would-do speech before.

"Good." Said Toma, certain he'd won. "Before you leave, here." Toma pulled a small brown bag drawn shut with a string and placed it in her hand. "These will numb the pain for an hour each, use them this day and you will feel nothing, but the pain will return with a vengeance when you run out. If i have given you enough that should be when you retire to sleep and no one will know or notice."

'Except me' Thought Sena, but took the bag anyway, taking out one of the bean shaped pills and swallowing it.

"Talk to the boy-prince." He reminded, then slipped backwards through the crowd and disappeared. Sena muttered something, annoyed at being ordered around but knowing she was in no position to argue. She turned on her heels and ran back to the castle in time for inspection. 

She returned in time for inspection, and was found the same as every other Krinchi, innocent, with nothing to hide. Whispers began among the Palace servants, that the new Prince was haunted by Kings of the past, and any who served him was in danger of murder as well. But the higher born in the Palace continued their search, though to no avail did the hours of investigation bring.

**************

"Bulma, you can't!" Gohan almost begged, as the three of them sat round Bulma's kitchen table having morning tea. They were debating Bulma's spaceship and her going into space. Bulma was firmly concreted in her decision to leave and find her son. And although Gohan missed Trunks, and worried about him day by day, and wanted him back just as much as Bulma, he did not think it safe for her to go into space by herself, let alone find some way around his kidnappers and then return with them on her tail.

"Because?" Asked Bulma, taking a large mouthful of her coffee and looking over her cup triumphantly.

"It's not safe. Remember Namek, and that was with me and Krillin, with father, against one enemy. This is only you, against who knows how many Saiyans." Gohan countered, not taking his eyes of Bulma's, fighting a mental battle with her. They had already established the fact that Gohan could not leave, not with the state of array the planet was in, not with the androids still roaming loose.

"Gohan." Bulma said between clenched teeth. "These days, nothing is safe. Nothing. I will be leaving as soon as the ship is ready." She narrowed her eyes and stared at his, neither back down.

Chichi picked up her empty cup and saucer and dumped them in the sink. "Well then. Gohan, we better get home so I can begin packing."

Gohan nearly dropped his biscuit. "What!?" He exclaimed.

"Chichi, I'm going to Planet Vegita alone." Bulma said, shaking her head at Chichi. 

"Course you are." Said Chichi. "And I'm coming with you."

"Mother!" Gohan said, in the exact same voice as before. "Not you too, please." Both woman looked at him, in the manner of ones who have made up their minds absolutely and in entirety. "Traitor." He mumbled to Chichi. 

Gohan knew himself defeated, and groaned, lying his head on the table with a 'chink'. 

"Very good." Said Chichi very firmly. "Now Bulma, you go and have a good sleep, and I'll be over tomorrow to get things organised here." She left no room for argument. Took Bulma's arm and escorted her to her bedroom. On her return she and Gohan washed the small amount of dishes, and Gohan finished the small pile of biscuits on the table.

"I know you're very much against this honey." Chichi said, in a much softer but still as determined tone. "But I was thinking, while you and Bulma argued, and I remembered how I felt when you were off on Namek, and I had to get to you. So I'm not letting Bulma go alone. We will find a way."

Gohan muttered something under his breath. And put the tea towel back on the rack.

"Come on. I'm going home." Chichi said, and gave her son a hug on impulse, one could never have too many hugs these days. Gohan hugged back, accompanied his mother home because she was still not comfortable riding Nimbus alone, then went out into the desert to train off his frustration at Bulma and his anger at the Saiyans. He trained all the harder for the thought lingering in his mind. 'If I can destroy the androids now... I can go with Bulma too.' 

**************

AN: I established two facts while writing this chapter 1, I cannot spell biscuit, thank Kami for spell check

2, Since my younger brother was playing the DVD for Lord of the Rings, I just had to put that quote in. ( ""Course you are." Said Chichi. "And I'm coming with you.")

It's becoming easier to bring fics, and the movie…_Together!!! HAHA _(yeah very few people are going to get the Together thing, It's a LoTR Billy and Dom thing… ^_^ )

right…

Hi ya Penchy-chan how's it going? I'm working out the Rebel side of things, so in chapters to come…^_^ I hope. School starts again soon and that's gonna put restrictions on my time, this one was slow in coming cos I was doing lotsa stuff with friends and writing other things too, so I hope its not too long before the next chapters out ^_^

Assena :Yeah, I'm great aren't I? ^_^

The rest of you lot out there (if there are others following me and my fic) I'd luv to hear from you, hint hint, reviews, hint hint hint


	10. Riot

Chapter 10: Riot

**_~*~_**

"No! No boy, face me!" Kumar yelled across the saiyan style training dojo. The walls were tall and far apart, leaving a huge space for the sole purpose of training the saiyans that dwelled within the Palace. Trunks shifted himself to face Kumar, who wasn't as huge as his voice, but rather a shorter saiyan of stocky build who was very much his own saiyan. Knowing all too well that Trunks was the Prince, he still addressed him as boy, and on occasion; kiddo, which reminded Trunks of Gohan. He used this pause in the training to gain some more breath, he couldn't work out how long they'd been training, a good deal over an hour to be sure, probably much longer.

"That's the way. True saiyans face their enemies head on." Kumar approached Trunks and watched him, inspecting, judging. "Point your feet outwards a little more, and your arms are like this." He demonstrated. "Ready to punch." 

Trunks followed suit, and without warning Kumar kicked out in an attempt to trip him over. Trunks was far quicker than he had expected and managed a flip backwards before flying at the training master and very nearly getting in a powerful punch in the jaw. 

"And what's that going to do? Stop me from talking?" He scoffed, pulling back a little way, ready for another attack. "Go for the limbs that can do you damage boy, break some bones!" Kumar corrected, landing a heavy foot in Trunks's chest and forcing him backwards. "Like that."

Trunks wasn't forced backwards for long, he darted upwards and came down behind Kumar, locking his arms behind his back.

"That's how we do it on earth." Trunks grinned, feeling triumphant for half a moment before Kumar jerked his head backwards, hitting Trunks on the forehead and nose.

Trunks staggered backwards and sat down on the floor, stunned. He rubbed his nose. "Ouch."

"Yeah, and that's what happens on Vegita, when you drop your guard." Kumar said, the back of his head throbbing. The Prince had a very hard nose. "And that would have been a lot harder if I didn't have orders not to dent you before the Games -don't sit like that, you'll cramp up." He instructed.

Trunks unfolded his legs. "What games?" He asked, curious.

Kumar looked at him, unaware that Trunks hadn't been informed. "Every year we hold the Games, it's a tournament between the very best fighters." He stretched a bicep. "I'm entering. It runs over a sennight, one round each night. Beginning soon."

Trunks's mind instantly flicked to one thought: 'Everyone will be busy in preparation, which will be a good time to suss out where they keep the space ships.' He chewed his bottom lip as he thought.

"They're saying the Games'll be a time to match you up." Kumar said, casually.

"Huh?" Trunks looked up, thoughts interrupted.

"Find you a Queen, and all." Kumar said, less interested in this talk than the talk of the Games themselves.

Trunks said nothing, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open in an expression that clearly said, beyond any doubt 'WHAT?' He chocked on the stuffy air in the dojo. "I'm ten years old!" He exclaimed. "I can't get married, that's insane!"

"That's the law." Kumar said. "There is no King without a female counter part. We are not a completely patriarchal society. Do you want the woman rebelling too?" A grin Trunks was too young to understand took up residence on Kumar's face. "I sure don't."

"But....Married?" Trunks was still staring wide eyed at Kumar. "Na-ah!" He could not realistically imagine what life would be like should he become a married ten year old, he didn't even know anyone who was married and had both partners still living.

Kumar stood up and stretched out his legs. "Take it up with someone else." He sounded bored, as if Trunks was fighting a loosing battle and Kumar didn't even have to try to counter him. "You seem to be getting along with Maroda's girl pretty well anyway." He said it in the type of voice that usually goes with a playful nudge in the ribs, although Kumar was not the type to elbow anyone in the ribs unless there was a chance of breaking them. "When are you next coming in."

Trunks gave a small shake of his head, trying to dislodge the shock. "Um..." He said, then thought to himself : 'Brilliant answer Trunks, really impressive.'

"Tomorrow." Came the answer from the other side of the dojo. Trunks turned to see Parsnal standing there. 'How on earth does he keep popping up like that?' Trunks wondered.

"You were late from your lesson. I thought perhaps you had get yourself lost." Parsnal said, giving Kumar a nod of acknowledgment before the shorter saiyan finished gathering his things and left the dojo. 

"I'm half a minute late and you come to find me?" Trunks asked. "No, don't worry about that- I have to marry?"

"But of course." Parsnal laughed. "Come now-"

"I'm not getting married." Trunks interrupted, standing up and folding his arms definitely. "And you can't make me." 

Parsnal raised an eyebrow, a little in disbelief but more in amusement.

"You can't make me." Trunks repeated, in true ten year old behaviour. "I'm the Prince and you have to do as I say. I'm allowed to break the law." He had his jaw set firmly and stubbornly. No one was going to change his mind.

"And what a Prince you are, master Vegita!" Parsnal laughed. "I will discuss in with the Council." He said, as if letting a little child think he was getting something that was coming to him anyway. Trunks realised this and frowned slightly. "Yes, you will."

"It wont be for a week of two, the wedding. A suitable suitor must be found. Beside, the tournament is between now and then. One of the prizes is to fight with the Prince, you know? Train for that, and leave the marriage problem to me." Parsnal said, sounding wonderfully reasonable to Trunks. The slight tone on the word 'problem' however, suggested it was not really a problem to him at all. Parsnal knew who Trunks would wed, Maroda never failed in matchmaking. 

*************

Sena knelt on her own bed, one of the two top bunks in the room. The floor was swept neatly and the few possessions each of her roommates owned in wooden trunks along one wall. There was enough room to live in, although the Krinchi got under one another's feet more often than not. And the room was lit by the high window pouring late evening sun into the room. The same window at which Sena was watching the riot.

It wasn't a big riot, by the standards of riots she'd seen. Big enough to have set half a dozen homes on fire and to have half a hundred saiyans fighting in the streets. But not serious enough to call out the city guard to sort things out just yet.

An uprising of this size was referred to by the Council- who owned the city guard- as "A healthy riot." One to let the subjects work off a bit of steam in the streets.

But Sena knew the signs, could read the way in which the people fought. She could tell the Rebels from the commoners by the way they didn't punch each other in the face, and she could see them slowly being beaten backwards, their numbers were small- growing slowly smaller.

Anything that diminished Rebel numbers just had to be classed as healthy, naturally.

Sena's hands clutched the wooden frame of the bunk as she watched, knuckles white. She knew. Pasha had not been organising nothing. The riot would grow.

And grow it did. Seemingly out of nowhere more fighters were appearing, out of houses, from under sheets covering stalls, and most commonly, from the air. Trained fighters. Sena could not recognise faces; her room was too high. But she could tell from the way they moved, and especially the way they fought. 

"What are you fighting for?" She whispered to the now swarming streets, and shook her head. "The Council is responsible, not the people. Why are we fighting them?" Still she watched, with a look of worried confusion on her face. She could not see the point of this riot, killing and injuring the public. The Council's city guards were out there now too, killing anyone who got in there way and therefore, was a Rebel. Their heavy fists stuck even those who were obviously just rioting fort the sake of rioting. Sena glowered at each guard. She couldn't see the Council members beginning to join in, but there were there. 

She hated them. 

She had hated them with a burning rage that bubbled up every time she saw one of their horrible little members. Or any time a new someone joined the group and told their tales. There was an equal balance between males and females in the group, males joined because of loosing, or the prospect of loosing, their wives or their children or their sisters. Females joined on the fear and anger of losing themselves to the alliance between the Arkosian's and the Council.

Sena chocked back an angry sob and coughed loudly because of it, as she willed herself not to cry. Instead she clenched the frame tighter between strong fingers. Before she was old enough to remember her face, her mother had been taken from her, and the anger had never died, nor the sadness. Her mother was a noble born, powerful in the fighting and political sense, beautiful as any mortal could be and engaged to wed Prince Vegita. It would have been a perfect union. But her mother was in love with someone else, and had disappeared from court for a time to have a child by him. Her closest friend, the Lady Maroda, had known and Sena's mother had sworn her to secrecy. The day she returned from her five year, child-bearing exile explained with 'visiting distant relations' excuse. Maroda had been waiting for her, welcomed her warmly back into the Palace and announced the engagement which had shocked her mother deeply. 

The entire Council approved this joining and the entire Palace rejoiced in it. But for the two most important persons, Prince Vegita himself, who was not ready at all to wed; who was still clinging to the ledged of the Balls of the Dragon King; and who was organising with his closest friend Parsnal a journey to find them. And Sena's mother, who left the Palace in secret whenever she could to visit her children and her children's father in the city.

In short, Vegita left before the wedding, causing a great wave of shock to wash over the city, and a great wave of relief to wash over Sena's mother. A wave that broke on the rocks of the Council, when they rose to full power in Prince Vegita's disappearance, who allied themselves with the Arkosian people, and who gave her mother to seal the deal.

So when Sena turned six, her mother was stolen, and her father became known as the Rat.. 

The Council payed the Arkosian people for the technology in gold and women. Covering up the latter by silencing the families of those chosen. 

An nobody knew! None of the public realised what the Council was doing until they turned up at your door to take whoever they desired, and the family either nodded and gave in, or became Rebels.

Sena paused in her thoughts as something down on the streets began to happen. Crowds parted and roared, guards paused in their beating, people turned to look. The Rebel band cheered with a cheer that bought more people into Sena's room to watch from the window.

Sena saw the figure appear in the empty space in the crowd. She recognised him with her eyes and her heart. Her mouth hung open at his recklessness, and she pressed herself closer to the window.

"What's happening?" A voice whispered from one of the other four now watching.

"Who is that?" 

"It's the Rat, stupid. What's he doing here?"

"I have no idea." Sena squeaked, not daring to take her eyes from the window.

'I'm here.' He was saying. His very presence cried it out to the Council. 'I'm here. This is the start of our final uprising. I'm here and now you have to deal with that you began.'

'I'm here and you are going to pay.'

As he spoke, the other Rebels disappeared very slowly back into houses, unseen, and when he had finished speaking a small explosion that rose a huge cloud of dust between himself and the Council guards distracted the crowds, and he too, disappeared.

"What was that about?" Asked one of the others, whispering no longer. The other four shook their heads, having no answer.

*************

AN: Hey all! Chapter 10 finally up (as you might have guessed, duh) I have to apologise about taking so long, with a shorter-than-the-last-one chapter. And I have to say it'll probably be a while longer before chapter 11 is out, because in about half an hour I'm going to school, and then it begins again tomorrow. And next weekend there's no chance of writing because of going to a certain Lord of the Rings exhibition ^___^ so sometime after that...

And speaking of LoTR, Yes, Alexis, the quote was from FoTR, thanks for reviewing. Are you still reading with us?

Penchy-chan: Well, there's a little insight on the Rebels and the Council, sorry nothing about Earth this chapter. Yes Chichi going was unexpected ^_^ I try not to be too predictable, so who knows what I'll do? (well, I do, but that doesn't count)

Assena, please don't eat me. That's all I have to say. I'm warning you, I have...(will have) Your essence of Dom and Elijah bottle, so if you eat me....SMASH!!! MUHA!!!

Guesses? Predictions? (it's alway fun to know what people think is going to happen!) Likes? Dislikes? 


	11. A glitch, a secret spilled, a plan conce...

Chapter Eleven...Already!

The day after Chichi had convinced Bulma they were going into space together, she and Gohan moved temporarily into Capsule Corp. There was much to be done around the house, and Chichi wanted to make sure Bulma slept and ate in between the cups of coffee. It was almost eight, the sun had left rose and gold streaks of cloud across the sky in a perfect late summer evening.

Gohan was asleep on Bulma's couch, one arm and one leg dangling off the side. He had spent the vast majority of the day training, and had exhausted himself. The new determination ruling his routine was always on his mind: Destroy them, destroy them now. 

Chichi was laying out plates when she heard the yell in Bulma's voice from the lab rooms. "I HATE that word!" Bulma yelled. "Glitch! There's no GLITCH!"

Gohan automatically tensed him muscles on hearing the yell, and made a move to run towards the sound.

He opened his eyes staring at a extreme close up of Bulma's carpet, pushed himself off the floor and looked around.

Chichi sighed, turned off the stove and removed the spoon from the pot. "Calm down Bulma." She called, making her way down the hall with Gohan running ahead.

"What happened?" He asked, letting himself in. Bulma was on her knees working on the ship, thick bare panels of metal had been removed to expose the wiring and complicated looking computer chips underneath. Wires ran to one of the computers, and the screen flashed. The largest word 'glitch' shone red light over the keyboard.

Bulma got to her feet, grumbling, and kicked a large spanner, which made a satisfactory clang against the metal panel. She glared at the computer ferociously. But before she could determine the nature of the error, Chichi took her arm. 

"This can wait until after you've eaten." She said, reasonably, as she pulled Bulma out the door. "Leave it for half an hour. Wait."

Bulma grumbled louder. "It won't take a minute." She said, pulling back.

Chichi's attitude did not change. "No it won't. It'll take longer. Now go and wash up, and we'll all have a nice dinner together." She smiled at them expectantly. "Won't we!?"

~*~*~*~*~

"Do you know Kumar?" Trunks asked Lushka, as they walked down to the huge eating hall together.

"Everyone knows Kumar." Replied Lushka. "Everyone in the Palace gets beaten up by him at one point in their lives."

"You wouldn't think the training master would be the one to break it to you that you were supposed to be married, would you?" Trunks asked. He was still musing over the concept and still trying to make himself believe that these people actually expected a wedding out of him. One that they were most definitely not going to get, if Trunks had anything to say in the matter.

Lushka paused a moment before answering, either thinking or translating all the 'yous' in his language. It was a difficult concept to grasp; when 'you' meant 'I' . "Well, that is the way the Palace works." She said. "I think I'd be insulted if there was not a queen on the throne. My mother would be, certainly." 

"Yeah well, your mother." Trunks shrugged.

"What does that mean?" Lushka demanded.

"Well, she doesn't have a say in it, does she?"

"What has that got to do with anything?"

Trunks shook his head. "I don't know. I'm just talking, I'm not really thinking. I don't want to get married. They can't make me."

"Is that what you said to Parsnal?"

"Pretty much. I bet I sounded pretty arrogant tho, I said 'I'm the Prince and you have to do as I say." Trunks sounded regretful of his word. He meant them -most certainly, but he wished he'd chosen a better way to say it.

Lushka laughed. "Oh Trunks!"

Trunks looked surprised at her laugh. "What?"

"I bet no one has ever said that to him before!" She giggled again, a bigger smile on her face. "I wish I had been there."

"He said he would discuss it with the Council." Trunks added.

Lushka nodded. "Of course he will. They will all be discussing and debating the best suitor for your Highness's bride." She said these last three words with a mocking tone on them, knowing it would make him laugh, and it did.

Trunks made a face. "Blak, I'll just have to be gone by then."

"What?" Lushka's whole expression changed into one of surprised concern.

Trunks realised he'd spoken out loud, and looked away. "Nothing." He said quickly. "Look we're nearly there."

"Your planning to leave!" She cried, and Trunks jammed a hand over her mouth.

"Ssh!" He hissed, and looked up and down the hall frantically. "I'm not, really, I was just kidding."

She took his wrist in her hands and removed it from her mouth. "Your a lousy liar, Prince Trunks."

"I-" Trunks began in his defence, then stopped. "Don't tell anyone, please."

He looked so sweet, with those strange blue eyes watching her face, pleading. Lushka answered before thinking about what she was saying. "I won't."

"Swear it?" He asked, still watching her with those eyes.

"On our friendship." Lushka promised, suddenly very aware of Trunks's wrist in her hands. She let go, and looked a little embarrassed.

Trunks nodded, and smiled again, in relief and hope that he had gained someone to help his escape. "Shall we go in and eat?" He asked, and pulled open the large wooden door to the noisy dining hall, which grew suddenly quieter as the signal of his arrival. Two door-guards bowed to them, one escorting Trunks to his seat at the head of the table. He gave Lushka a little wave before sitting down, and she found her face going a shade of red as she sat down with her mother.

"What's wrong with you, child?" Maroda asked, and nodded to a Krinchi serving wine.

"Um." Muttered Lushka. Not having the slightest idea why her face was warm. "It's just the heat of the dining hall, compared to outside."

Maroda seemed to accept this, but as she sipped her wine her eyes flashed to the Prince's seat to try and read his face. He acted more relaxed than when she had seen him on previous occasions. Up until someone proposed a toast to him finding the perfect queen and he scowled almost menacingly into his food, and crammed a piece of meat in his mouth so he wouldn't have to reply.

Trunks was in rather a bad mood after the dinner. There had been six more toasts all from rich members of either the Council or from the Palace court. They were all worded differently, all wishing him the same thing, and all with the hidden message 'Marry my daughter' underlying the smiles and toasts. Conversation had then turned to the Rat and the riot, and Trunks tried to listen to pick up any 'whys'. Why were they rebelling? Why did everyone at his end of the table hate them so much? There didn't seem to be any answers, just banter at the mess left by the riot and what this could mean in the long term relationships with Arkosia. Trunks grew very very bored, then annoyed each time the conversation turned to the accursed word 'wedding' and he was toasted. He wanted to yell at them all, and was glad when everything was eaten and he could escape back to his room. His frustration overran the hope of escape, for now at least, and all he wanted to do was slam some doors, or blow something up.

It was dark outside, although it tended to get dark quite early on Planet Vegita, and Trunks was worn out from the day that had consisted mainly of training and eating. He dismissed the guards at his door and they took their position in front of it, ready to escort him anywhere. He slammed the door on them, and felt satisfied at the wonderfully loud bang it created.

Sena was dusting the Prince's room, a task that had been done the day before, but was being done again. Mainly because Toma's instruction's to talk to the Prince were still weighing heavily on Sena's mind.

"Prince Vegita." Sena said, and bowed, standing straight and waiting for either a dismissal -as was the norm- or something that would allow her to talk to him.

Trunks didn't say anything. He sat down hard on the bed and looked sulky.

Going against everything she had been taught as a Krinchi, Sena takes a short breath then asks; "Milord? May I ask what is wrong?"

"Ah!" Trunks exclaimed, exasperated. "This planet!" He kicked his feet out at nothing, watching them swing back and forth. "They want me to marry." 

Sena was surprised, to say the least. Why on Vegita would the Council want Prince Vegita to marry? The wedding rites would hand over all the power to the royal couple, which made no sense at all. The Council liked ruling, anyone could see that. She'd served at banquets, she'd heard the tales and seen them for herself, and had no doubt that the Council loved power.

Besides...at his age? What were they, insane? Sena sighed. This could only be another power play, one she would spend hours figuring out later when the pain in her ribs had returned and it was too bad to sleep.

"They wanted my mother to marry a Prince." Sena said, taking a chance at speaking out of turn.

Trunks didn't look up. "Stupid huh?" He asked rhetorically, still swinging his feet with more force than necessary.

"Yes milord." Sena nodded.

Cooling off a little, Trunks asked. "So what happened? With your mother."

"She ran away." 

"Clever." Trunks muttered

"No." Sena replied. "Well, maybe it was- she was with her love, my father, for a good part of my childhood. She had already had two children by him, a brother I never knew, although that is not unusual. Boys are so very often sent out. And another- another we don't talk about." She flicked quickly back to the story. "Mother eventually had to return to the Palace, and for a half year she lived there until Prince Vegita disappeared, before the wedding."

The realisation came to Trunks that the Prince Vegita she talked about was his father. And he lifted his head from watching his feet to listen properly.

This was going better than anticipated, not only had he not ordered her to shut up, or be removed, but he was actually listening to her story with interest.

"He disappeared, and the Council took over." Sena's voice tone changed noticeably as she talked of the Council, from nervous and sadness to angriness, with the still lingering hint of sadness. "The alliance with the Arkosian people was formed. And my mother was given to seal the deal."

Trunks's eye widened, then his eyebrows took on a confused expression. "Why would they do that?" He voiced his thoughts.

"Because that is the way they work." Sena replied. "I've often wanted to ask that same question."

Trunks looked at her thoughtfully, contemplating her change of attitude since he'd last seen her. "Are you still nameless?" He asked.

"Um." Said Sena in a small voice. "Yes."

"I'm not going to get you into trouble." Trunks promised. "Really."

"Sena." Squeaked Sena, wondering what she was condemning herself too.

There was a period of silence as Trunks thought. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, chewing his thumbnail with eyes unfocused. 

"You know, Sena, I'd give anything to have met my father. And to see my mother again soon." Trunks said thoughtfully. "Parents are special."

Sena sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. "She was." She agreed.

"That's why," began Trunks, standing up in front of Sena, "I'm going to get your mother back."

Sena gasped, then nearly chocked She froze as a tingle jolted through her body and sudden tears wet her eyes. What the Prince had just said was more than she could have ever hoped for. Not more than she had ever wished, because nothing is beyond wishing for, but the concept of seeing her mother again has far beyond hope. Words failed her for a long time, before she managed to choke out, "the Councill kill you!" Utterly forgetting the 'milord' or 'highness'.

Trunks spread his arms out. "Someone's already tried. But I'm still here." 

Sena swallowed hard. 

"I'll talk to Parsnal and see if I can talk to the Council tomorrow about it." Trunks said, working it out as he went along. 

"Oh Your Highness, 'thank you' is n-not enough." Sena stammered, still in a state of shock.

"It's alright. I'm going to go to bed now, so I'll see you in the morning." Said Trunks, "Good night."

Sena bowed. "Thank you." She bowed again. "Good night, Highest One." She disappeared through the side door the Krinchi used, leaving Trunks to muse over the re-union he'd promised, which would slow the escape process, which in turn would make the stupid-wedding pressure heavier. Stupid-wedding, ah well, he'd have to tell the Council there was no way he was getting married. 

And then, he was kind of excited about this tournament. His mother had said the tournaments she went to with Goku were a lot of fun. Trunks yawned and rolled over. Maybe if he could send his mother that message, then he could stay a little longer -just enough time to get Sena's mother back- without her doing anything rash. Like coming to get him. He chuckled at the idea of Bulma telling off Parsnal, he was almost twice her size! But she could almost definitely make him yield. This image sent Trunks into peals of laughter, which bought the guards rushing in to see if he was alright. 

He dismissed them, still laughing to himself, and went to sleep a lot happier than he had left the dining hall.

~*~*~*~*~

AH! My Reviewers! Aaaah!!! *runs*

Ok, you know I'm only kidding, right? Right!? 

But so many questions! Especially Penchy-chan! Which actually made me think if I could fit in all the answers -which, if all goes according to plan, I will be able to. I'm not giving away any answers though. Some things you guys aren't even suspecting ^_^.

Assena! I don't have time to make it 'looooong' ! Some people have school you know *crumbles under sudden weight of bursary chem and bio and calc* Y!Y!Y???... But I will/have update/d before I go away for the nice and looooong weekend. And since I have to wait however many hours on the ferry, I'll be taking a notebook, so I can write ch12, hopefully a nice loooooong one *thinks* hopefully.

Yay Alexis! I'm so glad your still reading. Thank you for the reviews, (Yes, it's really annoying when people spell LoTR chars names wrong, like...Marine....*snigger* instead of Merry (yes, it happened)

AH! The LOTR exhibition...Its interactive!!! I'm gonna get to hold swords and stuff!!! 

You know, just to keep you all from reviewing a little longer, this chapter was unexpected. Its jumped out and surprised me. I was not going to write the whole Trunks talking to Sena bit. But I'm a bit of a puppet to the Story whenever I write, and it wanted to be written. But things happened! 

So even when I think I've got everything under control, it chews it's way out of the bottom of the sack and goes for the throat.

Excuse me I have to go pack. Have and awesome weekend everyone! (I'm well aware that its Wednesday, but it's now officially my weekend!) 


	12. The Tournament Day One

*peeks out nervously from behind computer chair* Um. Hi guys. No one's gonna bite my head off, are they?

Well, not yet, I hope.

I'm very aware that Ch12 is late. Veeeeery aware. And I'm sorry, reeeeeally! But…. Yeah I don't know what the but was gonna be.  So I'll just say

Hi Assena! Look you told me to go write it last night and I did! I did I did I did!!!

Hi Penchy-chan. I hear you're ganging up on me with Assena. No comment. *mysterious grin* I'll see what I can do ^__^

Alexis: Hey! Haven't given up on me yet??? (well if ur reading this the u obviously came back. Whooho! Yay ch12! I'm just gonna get on with it now… 

Chapter 12.

If Trunks had wanted to speak to the Council in the morning, the opportunity never arose. He'd slept in, something completely out of the norm for him; since he'd been sleeping in this bed, on this planet, he'd been woken by the servants (or by a silent figure with a knife) and back home, he woke with the sun. So Trunks had time to catch up on lost sleep, and in doing so dreamed of home and of mothers lost and found, and woke thinking he was not where he was, but where his dreams were.

The sun had risen, and throughout the Palace he could hear noises, bustling, voices, calling. The wide streets in the city below were as full of people as the riot the day before, but their mood was different. Their movement spoke of excitement, as the voices in the halls spoke of busyness, and of making everything ready for the opening ceremony of the Tournament. 

Trunks got up and dressed, then watched the people from the window for a while, wondering what their like was like. Breakfast was unusually late, but it and Lunch both passed with only a long training session between, and another after the midafternoon meal. The Council-Trunks had been told by a noble Somebody- was all over the place, and calling them all together at notice of a few hours would be tricky, time wasting and pointless. 

"Pointless?" Trunks had demanded. "I must talk with them." He had had his father frown on his face, and his mothers glare in his eyes. That noble Somebody had backed of a step involuntarily at the look, then straitened his back and told the Prince he would see if he could speak to the Council on the morrow, when the Tournament was underway, after the opening ceremony.

It was a very grand opening ceremony. One with years of tradition behind it, and months of planning. The arena was circular, with white and grey large flat stones arranged in some kind of pattern as flooring. Trunks foresaw the stones breaking, it this tournament was anything like those Bulma referred to on Earth.

Trunks was dressed in simple Saiyan armour -by his request, they had wanted far too much gold for his liking, but they had won the question of whether he was wearing the crown or not. There was no getting out of that short of blowing the place up. And where would that get him? Probably under a pile of rubble, but that was beside the point. 

At this moment, Trunks was waiting with Parsnal, Lushka and her mother, along with various other rich looking people. Trunks was beginning to recognise nobles by the way they walked. More often than not he could see up their nostrils. He and the others waited behind a red curtain for the signal -Trunks imagined trumpets- to make their presence known to the crowds. The Prince's especially, Trunks couldn't help but be slightly nervous, there were an awful lot of people out there.

The seating around the arena was filling fast, people were crushing in together, others were punching their neighbours -all in good fun- because they had stolen a cushion, or more likely some food item. Trunks pulled back the curtain just a little, so he could peek out at them all.

"This should be incredible." Lushka said from behind him. "The tournaments are talked about for ages, before and after. I can't wait to see who wins. I can't wait to see you pulverise them." She grinned at Trunks, and he remembered what Kumar had mentioned about the winner having to fight the Prince.

"Lushka!" Maroda scolded. "You do not speak with such a common tongue." She glared at her daughter, Lushka yielded, but grinned again at Trunks when her mother wasn't looking.

A voice from the doorway opposite the red curtain made them all turn around, a very dark skinned Saiyan looking important bowed and held out his hand in the direction of the hall. "It brings me great honour to introduce to you, Your Highness, my Lord and Ladies, the Lady Areinla of Marunkre."

A very beautiful, young Saiyan woman swept into the room, smiling happily and almost kindly. Her skin was a shade lighter than her body guards, and her dress was pale blue, contrasting the difference a little too sharply. For a moment it looked at if she had no tail, for it was dyed the same blue as her dress, with three small silver rings shining from just below the tip. She had the same silver rings -larger, of course- on her wrists and bangles, on her ankles, and on her forehead acting as a triple circlet. 

"It's an honour to receive you, Lady Marunkre." Parsnal bowed, voice like honey. The young woman -perhaps nineteen years of age- gave a little eye roll to her body guard before Parsnal rose again.

"And it is an honour to be here." She curtsied to Trunks, and he bowed back quickly. "My, what an extraordinary hair colour you have, my Prince." She said. "Is it dyed? No it's natural. Incredible."

Maroda made a little noise, Lushka looked up at her mother. She looked as if about to burst. How dare this foreigner speak to the Prince so informally! Lushka hid a smile. Of course Areinla would have heard of the Prince's common childhood, so of course she would know that he would be more comfortable with common speech. Now Lushka hid a frown. The damn woman was trying to steal her Prince.

There was a loud roar from the seating, Parsnal took a look out of the curtains, then turned back to the small group, apparently satisfied. He told them it was time for the Prince's entrance in just a moment, then turned to Lady Areinla and began talking about where she would sit.

"I don't like her, Trunks." Lushka whispered while no one else was listening.

Trunks looked over at Areinla who smiled at him then went on chatting politely to Parsnal. "Why not? She seems nice enough."

"I don't trust her. Saiyans from Marunkre are tricky. Mother says they should never have been allowed citizenship with us." Lushka looked wary, Maroda had never liked nor trusted those from Marunkre, Planet Vegita's only moon, and had taught her daughter to think the same. 

"Give her a chance." Trunks shrugged. "People can surprise you, my mother taught me that."

Below, the gathered people roared, Trunks could feel the power radiating off each and everyone on of them. There was a much stronger group almost directly below the balcony Parsnal was about to announce on which they would sit. Trunks guessed these to be the competitors, and felt slightly nervous. Watching Gohan train was one thing, and his few days of training with Kumar...Trunks wasn't sure it was enough to stop himself getting pulverised.

"Come." Parsnal pulled back the curtain. The crowd erupted into noise. Trunks' stomach flipped, and Lushka gave him a little nudge through the curtains. The crowd erupted again, Trunks waved nervously -how did they fit in so many people!

They all took their seats in the elaborate chairs positioned in a row on the just as elaborate balcony. Trunks was seated in the centre, with Areinla perched delicately on his right, Parsnal, Maroda and Lushka on his left. 

Voices began from below in the ring, speeches made first to the Prince and the Nobles on the balcony, second to the audience, mainly about the history of the Tournaments, and third to the contestants, rules and such. Trunks switched off halfway through the first lot, getting fed up with reading the translations flash by on his scouter. 

A flash of movement caught his right eye, and he turned his head to see Areinla, who was definitely looking at the crowds. Trunks dismissed it, but a few moments later he saw it again, and turned his head faster to see her turning her head away. She caught his movement and looked back at him.. "I'm sorry. My Prince." She whispered with a smile. "I was just admiring your hair."

"It's just hair." Said Trunks. Areinla raised one eyebrow slightly as if so say 'It's never _'just hair'_ ' but turned back to the ring where the first two competitors were taking their places. Trunks' attention focused itself on them too. This was bound to be more interesting than the speeches. 

There were two Saiyan men now flying at each other in the arena, one of much larger build than the other, and longer hair, which the smaller used against him, pulling out a large chunk from the side of his head only minutes into the match. 

"The smaller Saiyan, he calls himself Bruise, and the larger is a newcomer, called Guidar." Parsnal said to the small group, but probably for the Prince he knew had not been listening. "Bruise is a tough character, he's fought his way into Day Five the past two years- round Five of Seven, we're all expecting he does well this year too. Although bets are placed on the newcomer."

"Including mine." Said Areinla, watching the fight intensely, forgetting her company. "He looks tough." 'Tough' wasn't the only thing he looked; Guidar was very handsome.

If the crowd had cheered welcoming it's Prince, it was nothing compared to what it was doing now. Saiyan's male and female were almost climbing over each other in an attempt to cheer and curse the loudest. It simultaneously winced and cheered when Bruise was thrown down against the ground with the force that an elephant on steroids would have to an ordinary human. The ground cracked, as did Bruise's nose, out of which flowed a small river of blood.

Bruise said something nasty in Saiyan that the scouter refused to translate, which Trunks's found very amusing. Guidar picked up Bruise by a foot and tossed him towards the audience, which swarmed together hoping to catch him or one of his teeth, but Guidar appeared quickly in his path of flight and kicked him down into the crowd closest the ring. Who cheered for the victor, as the first looser of the Tournament crawled out from under their feet.

Guidar did a quick victory lap of the arena, then turned his sights towards Trunks and the others.

From the people below came a roar of surprise as the victor left the ring, and disappeared from the view of those on the balcony. 

He gained power, drawing all his strength to his hands as he held them above his head and flew straight up towards the overhanging balcony.

Trunks tensed. His ability to sense ki was not anywhere near as honed as Gohan's, but he had some sense of where powerful people were, and right now one was heading towards them very fast. He jumped to his feet, Areinla mirroring his movement a second later. He opened his mouth to shout a warning but the ground erupted beneath him before he could say anything. 

The balcony burst into pieces large and small, all flying through the air. Lushka screamed, Parsnal grunted in surprise. Trunks, who had had the most warning, was the first to catch himself in flight and pull away from the rubble that was starting to fall back to earth. He searched among the falling debris for the attacker, eyes confused by the dust kicked up and the speeding pieces of the rock the balcony had been made of. 

Lushka had dust in her eyes and had breathed it in, and was now coughing it out. "Lushka! Get out of the way!" Trunks called, but she couldn't see the pieces falling down towards her. One small but painful nonetheless piece hit her on the arm before she realised what exactly was happening.

Her mother gripped her arm. "Don't move." She ordered quietly. "Let him rescue you." Lushka made a very small whine of what could have been fear in her throat, but stayed where she was while Maroda shot out of the dust cloud. "Lushka! Where are you?" She heard her cry. "Lushka!"

Trunks summoned some ki to blow away the dust and some of the falling rubble so he could see, but was kicked forcefully in the small of his back and into the ground before he had a chance. 

"Do not worry about the young Lady, Prince Vegita." Areinla - who had been darting about firing ki balls at the rubble, and looking like she was having a great time- called. "See to your own business." She grinned down at him as he stood up, and then she vanished into the dust cloud. No-one saw Maroda's expression, one of clenched teeth and eyes all but glowing with anger.

Trunks shot back into the air, spinning round so no-one had the chance to come up behind him. He sensed the same balcony crunching power in the dust cloud, and faced it. Ready, set. Guidar flew towards him at such a speed Trunks didn't have time to think. He flew upwards, then down, colliding his foot with the back of the big mans head, and sending him down towards the ground. 

Guidar caught himself, swept upwards and fired a range of blasts directly at Trunks, who yelled, and sent back an equal amount of his own.

It didn't bother him at all at that moment. But later Trunks was a little worried about the way his body fought by itself, needing little prompting from his mind. He certainly didn't question it, it could have saved his life.

The blast's collided in an impressive explosion of light and a shock wave that sent up more and more dust flew over the arena. Trunks' hair was blown into his eyes, and he tossed his head to get it out, missing Guidar's next move.

Trunks was grabbed by his feet and pulled downwards at such a speed it made his stomach turn, and he only saved himself from crashing into the ground by firing another ki blast at it, sending himself crashing into Guidar, and managing to knock the wind from both of them.

Areinla intervened, giving a very well placed -anatomically wise- kick to Guidar which forced the man to the ground where he lay on his back. Trunks landed on his feet beside him. Areinla on his other side.

"What do you think you're doing? Attacking the Prince like that!" Areinla kicked him, not terribly hard, in the arm. "You deserve to die." She held her arms above her head, drawing power into a ball between her hands.

"Wait." Trunks held out one of his hands, then looked down at Guidar. "Were you acting by yourself? Or are you working for someone?" It was just a hunch, but Trunks needed to know.

Guidar chuckled hoarsely, and quickly flicked his wrist upwards. A very small glass bottle appeared from his tight sleeve, which he tossed into his mouth and crunched down on before neither Trunks or Areinla could move. The Saiyan fighter arched his back and a deep croaking gurgling noise came from deep in his throat before he flails about for a bit before lying still twitching violently. (AN shout out to Assena!)

"Damn." Sighed Areinla, letting her ki ball fade.

Parsnal landed near Guidar's head, sending up a small dust cloud, and looked down at the body. "Krular. I'll bet." He muttered. "It's a very deadly poison." He looked at Areinla suspiciously. "Very rare."

'He killed himself?' Trunks thought, stunned. 'Rather than say anything.' He shivered involuntarily. 

Lushka hovered just above the ground near Trunks, looking down at Guidar, disgusted. "What? You can tell by looking at him?" 

"No. Not usually." Parsnal said, spitting at Guidar's face. "It has a distinct smell, and was found in the Prince's breakfast this morning. So I've been keeping an eye out for it."

Lushka accepter this, and looked at Areinla, narrow eyed with more than just hate in her eyes.

"What!" Trunks exclaimed. "Someone tried to poison me and you didn't tell me?"

"It wasn't necessary, the food was destroyed and a new breakfast made." Parsnal said.

Trunks frowned. Breakfast was obviously not the point. "Next time someone tries to kill me, tell me, will you." He said, feeling a little ill. 

Parsnal nodded a Whatever You say nod. "Guards!" He called. "Clean up this mess. And arrest the Lady Areinla."


	13. The Long Expected Chapter

Hello everyone.

It's been a while? Has it? no I don't think so...

Ok, alright, I'm sorry, dreadfully apologetic and all the things that go with it, including the next chapter which is what you're all here for, not apologies (or excuses, and I bet I could come up with a few...homework...other obsessions....starring (co-starring more like) in a movie...^_^...making nazgul costumes out of boxes stolen from the skip behind the movie theatre (beg pardon, that was Shire gates made from that box) learning about GM potatoes...washing hair....being BANNED from ff.net BY ff.net (I'm so evil) really most amusing story, you see, one day I decided to write a theory on what effect elven underwear has on them, and ff.net did not like this, so now, the VERY SAME HOUR! I SWEAR! I was going to upload this I get an email from them. I cannot stop finding their timing so utterly atrocious that it's incredibly funny.

And you know what? None of that was lies.

ok, I'll stop. Anyway, Penchy-chan, if your reading this then yay! You came back after soo long! V. pleased with that. I hope there's enough Gohan in there to fulfil your daily needs. ^_^

Jaques, Thanks again for your concern, no I didn't die, I was just being busy (or lazy, if you will) but I'm back now and I think I might be on a roll so bits of the next chapter will even be written today *grin*

Alexis, you still reading too? I hope so, but I guess we'll find out when it comes to crunch (review) time ^_^ Hello!

And of course, Assena, but I know your still reading cos you've been bugging (erm, sorry, encouraging) me for the last....well, since the last chapter ^_^ ok ok! LOOK! It's up!

Chapter Thirteen: Another plot, A Knife, and a Battle.

There was a figure dressed and hooded in black walking with composed grace down the back streets of the city. She grabbed the eye's attention; not all folk walked with so much confidence, not around here. There were some tried to stop her, some tried to take what wasn't theirs and ended up with their face planted in the nearest wall. 

She soon found the shop she was looking for, recognisable by nothing save for the runes carved into the door.

She went inside. The shopkeeper looked up. 

She spoke thus: "Sometime this week two youngsters will come in inquiring about a knife. Give the girl this." A brown leather tube exchanged hands. "And keep this for yourself."

The shopkeeper nodded, weighing the bag of gold in his hand. "Enough to buy silence, eh mam?" He asked, chuckling to himself. He'd seen many murders and many customers come in to buy his silence, and usually the weapon for the next victim. Not commonly a woman though.  
"Not your silence...quite." She said thoughtfully. "Tell them....Tell them I look like this." And she proceeded to give the man his instructions.

Trunks ran across the arena to catch up with Parsnal, who was leaving immediately after proclaiming Arienla's arrest. "Parsnal! Wait up! Wait!" He called. Parsnal stopped and turned near the wall of the arena.

"Why did you arrest Arienla? You don't know it was her... do you?" 

"Young Prince, the Krular poison only comes from one part of our known galaxy, and is very rare even there." He said, Trunks noted the patronising tone and it made him angry.

"Her moon? Marunkre? But still, you can't arrest a person on those grounds-"

"We certainly can! And we certainly will if it helps save our Prince's life!" Parsnal snapped. "You know too little of your ways, Prince, to-"

"Prince exactly!" Trunks snapped back, very angry now. Too many secrets had been kept from him and he did not like it, didn't like it one bit. "Meaning I make the orders, right? Meaning you will tell me what's going on, when it goes on. Not after. Understand? Because if you don't I'm only too happy to make you?"

Parsnal looked like he was at a loss for words, but not for long. "Excuse me, Prince, but I have matters to deal with." He launched into the air and was gone within moments. Trunks would have followed, except he sensed Lushka coming up behind him.

He turned, and she saw the anger on his face.

"They call me Prince and they don't listen to a word I say!" Trunks fumed, turning and punching a wall. Lushka looked at the cracks and had an idea.

"Come with me." She said, smiling.

"What?" Trunks snapped, not feeling like going with anyone right now.

Lushka knew the snappiness was not directed at her. "I call you Trunks and I have an idea. It's time you and me played detective." She took his hand and ran down the hall, Trunks dragged for the first few steps before falling into the running rhythm. Lushka pretended the pink on her cheeks was from running, and not his hand in hers.

They ran up three sets of stairs and round many corners, and Lushka led them to a long dull lit room, it seemed like an old library, as well as a store room. "If there's anything they found as well at the bracelet then it'll be here and someone will know something about it." She told Trunks, and added, "we get this sort of thing happening in the Palace a lot, mother's interested in the process of tracking assassins down, and I hear more than she realises." She grinned mischievously. Trunks grinned back.

Lushka cleared her throat. "HELLO! ANYONE HERE?!"

There was a faint scuffling from somewhere behind a shelf. " "lo miss. Oh." A middle aged, small male Saiyan in the uniform of the Palace Krinchi looked around the shelf and saw who he was talking too. "Your 'Ighness, Milady." He bowed. "What kin I do for you?"

"You can tell us if you have anything on the assassin, found in my room some nights ago." Trunks said.

"Hmm. Hm." Said the Krinshi. "Yes, we found a bracelet but none without was found. There was something else though, if you'll wait, Milord, I'll be but a minute..." 

He returned swiftly, holding a knife by the hilt, he handed it to Trunks. "I can't say where 'bouts it was found, I dunno, somewhere in Your Highness's room."

Trunks took the knife and looked at it. It was plain, but for a little work on the hilt for grip, and some very small writing etched along one edge of the blade. 

"Now we look in the Palace weapon's records." Lushka announced, "and see where it comes from."

Trunks swung the knife experimentally, as if it was a small sword, then nodded. "Let's go."

Gohan woke up at dawn. There wasn't anything special about this day; Bulma would be working on the errors she'd encountered on the ship; Chichi would be up soon to make breakfast: the Ox King would be up just after, to eat it. But Gohan planned to be gone before then. Just as Bulma had to fix the ship's errors before they left, Gohan had to fix Earth's, and that meant he had to find them.

He didn't risk being caught by his mother by going downstairs -both Son's had moved into Capsule Corp when it became obvious Bulma was in the Who-needs-food-or-rest-when-I-have-my-science? mode, and Chichi had put herself in charge of making sure she took care of herself- so instead, Gohan went straight out the window. He didn't even want breakfast, his entire mind and body was concentrated on one thing, and it wasn't food.

By that afternoon he had a rough location, deducted from listening to radios and TV reports as he made his way south and west, and by that evening he was following a path of destruction so clear a blind man could read it. He stopped then, a little out of the town concerned, and begged a meal- because his Saiyan stomach counted for something, even if all his discipline was focused on the battle ahead- off the farmwife, who had heard of him, all but worshipped the things he did, and was only too happy to feed him. Even after she learned what a Saiyan stomach could accomplish. He thanked her and made a mental note to send her a large gift when he got home, and then he was off again, and there wasn't so far to go.

18 was standing inside a clothing store, waiting impatiently outside the sole changing room when Gohan landed outside, and dropped immediately behind the low windowsill. He wanted to asses the situation before hand, and make sure there weren't any people around before he attacked. With his power level as low as he was, Gohan watched.

He wondered who on earth the blond could be waiting for, any human taking up trying-on time would be annihilated immediately.

"Are you done yet?" She asked, banging on the door with her fist. "I have a pile too, you know."

"Patience, sister." Came the voice from inside, and the door opened. "So...how do I look?"

"17, purple is not your colour." She sighed. "I saw a nice shirt near the front, wait there." 18 turned to find the shirt, and found Gohan's fist in her face.

"That one there." Trunks said, pointing at a well drawn line picture of the knife in his hand. "That's the same. What does the writing say?"

Lushka leaned closer to Trunks, telling herself it was to read the Saiyan words better. The page was one of hundreds together in a large book, each page with different styles of knives and swords. "Just the date it was made...the maker and his address. Brilliant! So we go there and see who's been buying knives like this."

"Exactly. Come on." Trunks pushed back his chair, it echoed in the long room the two sat in, and closed the book, which also echoed.

"Hang on!" Lushka said, reopening the book. She copied down the address and shut it again. "Now, we go."

"I know this is a serious...mission, thing, but..." Said Trunks.

"But...?" Lushka prompted.

"Can we have disguises?" Trunks grinned. Lushka laughed.

"Not a bad idea, people are going to recognize you." 

Gohan had surprise on his side, he'd sent 18 through the wall, following close behind to slam a ki blast into the back of her head the moment she hit the ground. A dozen strands of hair melted into her scalp and she screamed with rage, flinging him backwards through the hole in the wall and into her astonished brother. Gohan had ki-covered fists up by the time he hit 17, and took the android down with him.

17 kicked Gohan off him, cracking a rib, and sending him half way back to 18, who was frantically feeling the back of her head and had no attention for the fighting males in the room. Her fingers found where the heat had matted her hair into an ugly blond lump on the back of her head.

17 laughed loudly, both at his sister and Gohan, who was paying no attention to the cracked rib, rather, he had power up to super Saiyan and was entirely ready for a series android butt kicking session.

Gohan launched himself at 17, disappeared the moment before he would have hit, reappeared behind and slightly below, grabbed 17's neck and heaved a ki ball into the small of his back. The android twisted out of Gohan's grip and dropped to the ground some feet away. Gohan let fall none of his guard as 17 picked himself up, the purple shirt ripped off his back so it lay in tatters hanging from his shoulders, the ends of the nylon burnt from ki-heat. He inspected on end with a cold blue eye, then focused them both on Gohan. The android clenched hard fists, shifter his weigh onto his right foot and charged Gohan out of the shop and into an intense battle above the city.

18 sat on the ground, distraught, prodding the back of her head gently, and inspecting it carefully with a mirror with blue eyes a little too wet to be natural.

Lushka pulled the hood over Trunks' face, then stepped backward to admire her work. The hood fell perfectly so his blue eyes were darkened with the shadow and his lavender brows were unrecognisable. She knew she ought to have put something on them, and his hair, to darkened it to natural royal Saiyan black, but there was the time factor, and besides, she had seen Trunks' face when he had his hair dyed the last time, and it was quite scary. 

She pulled her own hood up; she was almost a recognisable figure as the Prince, and was going to be worth a large ransom fee should anyone wish to kidnap her, which would just be so inconvenient right now. 

They'd both changed into everyday Saiyan clothes, and looked like they'd blend in nicely. Trunks stood up and inspected himself. "I think we're ready." He said. "You have the address?"

Lushka nodded and patted a pocket. "You have the knife?"

"Yes. Let's leave."

They climbed out a window lest a guard spotted the two commoners wandering round the Palace and decided to arrest them. Lushka knew vaguely where they were going, and the two set down in an alleyway in a neighbourhood made of crumbling brick houses and rotten wood and even more rotten inhabitants. There were few street signed that had not been used for firewood, and Lushka had had to ask a couple of people which way to go, which resulted in said person looking her up and down and grinning with a broken toothy smile.

"I can show you my sword." He grinned down at her. Lushka tried not to breath, his breath was that bad. "C'mon hon, ye don't wanna be spendin' time with 'im, 'e's just a wee boy."

This was the second time this had happened. Trunks kicked him with full force in the kneecap and heard something crack before the man yelled. The two took off down the street with the Saiyan yelling obscenities after them. Trunks pulled his hood back to expose the lavender hair, and stuck his tongue out as he looked back over his shoulder. The man stopped yelling abruptly, and they disappeared round a corner. 

Lushka trying not to laugh. "That was pretty stupid, Trunks." She smiled, reached close and pulled the hood back up.

"Yes,' he agreed. "But did you see his face?"

"Ug, don't remind me." Lushka gagged. "Do you think we're done with sleazy direction-givers?" She asked. "I'm getting sick of them."

"Yes, my big toe hurts." Agreed Trunks, and Lushka pulled on his sleeve. 

"Over there. That's it." She said, her voice serious now as she recognised the runes on the door, the same as those on the paper in her pocket. "You go in first, and ask." She told him, tucking her arm though his. "And don't knock." She said, as Trunks raised his fist to do just that. 

He pushed the door open with some force and strode in. The shop was lit by high windows, dust mites danced in the sunbeams. The knife-dealer looked up, saw the size of them and grinned heartily. "Come in, come in, young customers. What can I do you for this fine day?" 

Trunks swallowed, then drew himself up. "We're wanting to know if anyone has bought a knife that looks like this lately." He pulled the knife out and lay it on the bench between them. The Saiyan scratched his beard and made like he was thinking. "Ah, hmm." He said, picking up the knife and inspecting it. He ran his finger over the small writing on the edge of the blade. "Yes, only sold one a'these in the last long while. Hmm, not the best quality, but it'll get the job done." He swung it through the air as Trunks had done earlier, then dropped it point down on the table. It landed there and wobbled, buried half an inch into the wooden bench.

"Well." Prompted Trunks. 'Can you tell me who bought it?"

The man eyed Trunks. "And why should I do that, young'un?"

Trunks thought of pulling back his hood again, but Lushka grabbed his arm to stop him.   
"Because we can pay you very, very well." She said, pulling out her bag of money. The Saiyan's eyebrows raised considerably. He wasn't sure what sort of plot the knife was involved in, but he was glad it was his knife; he was getting a lot of money out of this. Silently he thanked the first hooded woman. "Well then." He smirked. "Firstly, she leaft this for you." He nodded at Lushka, who looked up in surprise, and took the brown leather tube. "She was a pretty young'un, small, with short and dark hair about to 'ere." He tapped his chin to indicate length. "She looked strong, not a noble-not chance of that, and," he leaned over the bench till his face was level with Trunks'. "She was cloaked brown, like your girl is there, but she was careless, and these eyes see many things." He rubbed one eye. "She was wearing that fancy Palace-slave uniform, and she walked with a small limp she tried to hide- as if someone had hurt her side- does this help you?" 

Lushka looked at Trunks, and saw his expression. "Yes thank you, that helped a lot. We'll go now, come on, friend." She took Trunk's arm again and led him out of the shop, the bearded Saiyan watched them leave then went to count the money.

Trunks' eyes had slowly formed into a look of realisation and then horror covered his face as he recognised the description, and didn't want to believe a word of it.

"You know who she is?" Lushka asked, once they were airborne and on their way back to the Palace.

Trunks nodded grimly, and said, in sepulchral tones. "I do."

"Well?"

Trunks shook his head, he was thinking deeply, and was feeling even more deeply betrayed that he ever trusted Sena in the first place.

Right, you know the drill guys and girls, it starts with 'R' and ends in 'eview please!' I think this one is shorter than usual…but I'll get onto more right away ^_^ really! I have some TIME now!

PS: Heh. You know you're obsessed with LoTR when you make Very Secret Diary references in your Dragonball Z fanfic. *sigh*


	14. The Note among other things

Chapter Fourteen: The Note 

*waves at Assena, Penchy-chan and our new reader Rosethorn* Hi girls and guys (or just girls...) Don't we feel priveliged that Raen's on a roll and is typing out more chapters than...*looks over to discarded pile of essays* ...anything else? Yes we do! Yay us.

Penchy-chan, sorry about the shortness of the last chapter (I thought it was quite long...but then it took me how-long to write? I've got 14 written on my hand reminding me to update before I go memorise my Spanish speech and learn about Socrates and try and keep warm, it's COLD!!!) Erm. Anyway... where you see ** means an A/N at the bottom, just for you...

Hiya Rosethorn, glad to see I'm still picking up a few readers (i think a lot of people go 'blarg, 14 chapters, i'm not reading that' and find something shorter, but yay, hi you!)

*takes deep breath to say something to Assena...* *stops* hehe, that would be telling.

I'm evil and loving it ^_^ Ok, on with it...

The Saiyan Prince and -reputedly, as far as Palace gossip was concerned- the future Queen slipped back into the Palace the same was that had slipped out; through a small window in the far east wing of the Palace. Trunks had recovered from the shock of finding out who the knife belonged to by the time they were both inside; he remembered the strength yet litheness of the one who had tried to kill him, and knew that matched Sena's build exactly, he sighed. There was still the motive that he had to figure out, and Trunks wondered if he'd see Sena later, but right now he was curios about something else.

"What did he give you?" He asked, as Lushka pulled the window closed.

She pulled the leather tube out of her pocket. It was as long as one of Trunks' hands, and about half the width. Her fingers ran over it, searching for an opening. "There's obviously something inside it," she said, holding it up closer to one of the lamps lighting the hallway.

"Let me look." Trunks said, and took the tube. Near one end was a very small catch, Trunks flicked it open with his thumb, and a piece of paper fell from the inside of the hollow tube. 

Lushka reached down and picked it up. Her eyes shotting over the paper as she read.

"What's is say?" Trunks asked.

Lushka read the note again. Then out loud. "Girl, drop the enquiry right now, or I'll drop your head from your bedroom balcony."

"Ha," Lushka said shakily. "Little bitch doesn't scare me."

"That's not fair." Trunks said.

"What?"

"That's not fair that you should be in danger because someone's after me."

Lushka half smiled thankfully. "Um, we should go. There's the First Night banquet tonight, for the tournament, and there'll be an uproar if we're both not there."

"Oh goodie." Said Trunks, with as much sarcasm as his young self could muster. "The food's great, and everything, but I'm already sick of banquets, and that evil throne, and those eviller clothes."

"You should turn up dressed as you are now, that would cause an uproar- or a new fashion trend- and exchange the throne for a wooden crate." Lushka giggled at the idea.

"And we could hire someone to paint question marks all around it, as an indication of my state of mind."

They both laughed, finding the image all the more amusing because of the paper in Lushka's hand and the weight on Trunks' mind.

"I better get changed anyway, If Mother sees me walking around dressed like this, she's have kittens." Lushka said. "I'll see you tonight."

"I'll walk you to your rooms." Trunks said. "And promise me you won't go walking anywhere alone."

Lushka smiled again as his concern, but smiled with her head turned so he wouldn't see it. "I promise." She said.

"Thanks. Now let's get going, I'm hungry." Trunks said. Lushka nodded, and off they went.

Sena was thankful she wasn't one of the Krinchi that waited on the banquet tables tonight. It would be a very long night else, and she wanted nothing more than to go to bed early and escape her life in sleep. Lying on her bed, she had the covers wrapped tightly around her for warmth and comfort, and was thinking about the promise the Prince had made her, to get her mother back from those stinking Arkosians. She smiled into her pillow as she thought about it, and wondered when next she would have contact with her father, when she could tell him. She was looking forward to the look on his face, his joy, when she told him as much as she was looking forward to see her mother again.

She tried not to think of what the Arkosian's would do, once her mother had been taken from them. She hoped that Prince Vegita was not starting a war, their civil war was bad enough. But she so desperately wanted a whole family-she didn't even think of her eldest brother, he was not part of the family, but she spared a thought for the brother sent away as a child- again that she really didn't care, and didn't mind how selfish this made her feel either.

She sighed, and closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

The banquet was just as Trunks had predicted: good food, otherwise rather boring. Someone who apparently considered himself to have musical talent had written and performed -badly- a ballad about him and Lushka, while Trunks tried desperately to hide behind his goblet.

It ended in the early hours of the morning, and before Trunks went to sleep he talked to the guards outside his room.

"Tonight, I want two of you to go and guard the Lady Lushka's room. I don't care how many guards she's already got, I want her to have two more. She's in danger."

The four guards exchanged glances, and there was a silent pause before two of them bowed, and marched off down the hall. Trunks thanked them, smiled and went to bed.

He was woken, some immeasurable amount of time later, by a loud ceaseless banging on his door. Trunks sat up, looked around in confusion, yawned and got up. He grabbed his scouter on the way to the door, knowing that whoever was knocking probably couldn't speak his language, and he wanted to tell them off.

"What?" Trunks demanded as he opened the door. "Oh kami." He muttered, freezing in his place.

Lying on the floor were the two remaining guards, and they were both very much dead. 

Trunks' stomach awoke enough to inform him it wanted to throw up, and he closed his eyes and put a hand over his nose. He took a deep breath, and braved a look at the wall where there had been writing, last time.

Again, there was blood writing. But Trunks didn't need his scouter to read the words, they were in plain, earth language. 'Big mistake.'

Trunks got dressed with super human speed, he couldn't find any footwear so ran off down the hall barefoot, flying over the mess outside his door. He pounded down the halls until he reached Lushka's rooms, where he banged on the door with a heavy fist.

A sleepy eyed female Krinchi opened the door and bowed. 'What can I do for you, Highness?"

"Get me Lushka." Trunks said, and Lushka appeared down the hall, fully awake and wrapped in a blue silk robe. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, Prince Vegita." Lushka curtsied, and dismissed the Krinchi. "Why would I not be?"

"Someone killed the guards outside my room," Trunks explained. "I had sent some to guard you, and I thought..."

"You shouldn't have done that Trunks." Lushka said.

"Why?"

"Had there been more guards they could have caught your killer." She said, sounding annoyed with him. "I do thank you for your gesture, but do try and think next time."

"Who is it?" A crisp voice called from down the hall, and Maroda poked her head out of her bedroom. "You Highness? To what do we owe this visit?"

Trunks looked curiously at Lushka, her reaction was unexpected, and rather hurtful. "I was just...making sure your daughter was safe." Trunks said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have someone else to talk to." He bowed slightly to them both and raced back off down the hall. He hadn't lied, he didn't want to talk to someone else. This was the last straw, and he had to find Sena.

Maroda looked at her daughter. "He cares for you." She said.

"I know. And if his assassin had attacked tonight he could have been himself killed." Lushka frowned.

"Mmm." Said Maroda thoughtfully. "Go to bed child." She said, closing the door between the Palace and their own rooms, then retiring to her private room. "Good night."

"Good night Mother."

Trunks found his way to the store room where they'd found the knife, it was the only place he could think of where there would definitely be Krinchi, he hoped. The middle ages one was still there, half asleep over a pile of books, but he woke up when Trunks opened the door.

"I need to find a Krinchi." He said. "Her name is Sena, do you know her?"

"Don't have names milord." The Krinchi answered, as if the Prince was testing him.

"Don't argue with me!" Trunks yelled. "I need to find her!"

The Krinchi swallowed. "Y-yes, milord, I know o-of her."

"Thank you." Trunks said. "Lead the way."

There was a loud banging on the window that jolted Sena and her other roommates from sleep. She sat up first, being the least tired as the others had all served at the banquet. There was someone at the window, hovering far above the ground. Sena crawled to the end of her bunk and opened it.

"Sena." A voice hissed. "You're in trouble, get out here." Sena recognised Pasha's voice, and it's desperate tone. "Now, girl!"

Sena crawled out the window, and Pasha grabbed her arm to keep her from falling, while she sorted herself out enough to fly on her own. Her roommates woke up enough to see her disappear, and one got up to close the window. "What did you do?" She whispered out to her friend and the stranger.

Sena shook her head. "I have to go Penchy, I don't know if I'll be back. Take care." Pasha pulled her arm hard, and the two flew off into the night.

"What did I do?" Sena asked. 

Pasha looked at her best friend's daughter. "You were careless. There are rumours flying all over the city that one lilac haired young boy and a companion were dressed as commoners inquiring about a knife used to try and kill him. Larran saw his with his own eyes."

"That old sleaseball? You believe him?" 

Pasha squeezed her arm so hard it hurt. "That matters not! You left the knife just lying around! How stupid are you?"

"I didn't! I swear! The knife I used I destroyed that same night, after seeing you for the bracelet." She saw the look on Pasha's face and repeated. "I swear it. I did not leave a knife lying around."

"Well...whatever happened, a knife was found, the two kids went to Kalin's shop, and Kalin gave a very accurate description of you when they asked who had bought it."

"I didn't." Sena repeated. "I-"

"You swear, I know. But if you think anyone other than us is going to listen to your story then you've lost what little sense you had." Pasha said. She didn't mean to be so hard on the girl, but she'd never be safe again in the Palace, which meant that the Rebel's had just lost their inside source of information. Not a position easily gained.

Sena was silent. "Thanks- for coming to get me."

"Na, you may not be the brightest spark, but you're...a worthwhile kid." Pasha admitted.

Sena smiled. "I'm not a kid." Pasha patted her head.

"Yeah kid, I know."

Trunks stomped down the hall in rather a bad temper, and nearly tripped over one of the hides carpeting the hall and kicked it.** Once arriving, he banged on the door of the room the Krinchi led him to probably harder than necessary. A timid sleepy woman opened the door, and Trunks's guide looked at her apologetically. 

"This is Sena's room?" He asked. 

The sleepy face looked surprised at one of her companions being given a name by one so high up in the pecking order. "Yes highness." She squeaked.

"Can I speak to her?"

She didn't want to say no for fear of getting blasted, so opened the door wide enough for Trunks to see the empty bed. "She's not here milord."

"Where is she?" Trunks asked. "I have to talk to her."

The woman pointed out the window. "Sorry, milord."

"When?"

"Just now, milord."

Trunks felt cheated, then didn't know what next to do. If she had run away, then didn't that mean she really did try and kill him? And the guards? And left that note? Trunks looked up at the Krinchi, who were waiting for orders. "Um, go back to bed." He muttered, and left.

He didn't go back to his room, he found another window, flew out of it and set himself down on the highest point of the Palace roof, sparing a thought for all the window-climbing-out-of he'd done today, and -not that he knew it- Gohan had been doing too.

There was a little bird poop, even up here. Trunks laughed a little, but his heart wasn't in it, and he thought of Earth and his mother and Gohan and then couldn't even pretend to laugh.

He needed to find a way off this planet where he didn't know what to believe. Sena had seemed to wronged by the Council, and was counting on him to set things straight. So if she was the one trying to fool him was everything she'd said about the Council lies?

But how was he supposed to leave Lushka to whatever Sena would deal out? Trunks sighed and drew his knees under his chin, and watched the lights of the city beneath him. It wasn't a cold night, maybe beyond the reach of the city's fires it would have been cold, but even at the pinnacle of the Palace, it wasn't cold. There were no stars, the sky was too light, a sickly orange colour from the lights reflected off bits of cloud; but there was a half moon in the sky. Trunks watched it, thinking that could be Marunkre, where the krular grew.

Now that Trunks though about it, Arienla hadn't even been on the planet for breakfast that morning, had she? He couldn't quite remember but a good many emissaries had been introduced to them as they arrived and he hadn't met her until the moment before the tournament. And if she had organised to have poison put in his food while she wasn't there, then why did she show up at all and risk being arrested?

Trunks thought to sort it out in the morning. At this lonely moment the roof was his haven and he didn't feel like meeting with anybody. He picked at a tile and watched little pieces of roof dust blow away on the wind and tried not to think about anything. It wasn't working. He missed Bulma and Gohan too much. Either of them would know what to do. Either one of them could have handled things better. Either one of them would be on their way home by now, but not Trunks. He was stuck on the roof of a Palace where all -imost/i- of its inhabitants said it belonged to him. The other few were trying to kill him. Trunks' face was getting hot and his eyes were becoming blurry as steaming tears filled them.

He wasn't a Prince, he was just a ten year old who wanted to go home.

**Hehe. There ya go Penchy-chan! Trunks kicked hide! *snigger* Stay tuned to see if other things in your email come to pass (hopefully not in such a smartass way ^_^)

Am going to go write more now that the tv's stopped blaring and i can concentrate, see you all later. 

Next up: Sena's origens...(3 dots)


	15. Communication and War

*drags self from nice warm couch* oh yawn I'm tired! But not to bother you lot with any of that, I'm just gonna say what I'm gonna say then upload this then go look for my hairbrush so I don't have to cut all the knots out of my hair in the morning (long weekends=little sleep, especially when you're sleeping in the van because you have 4 beds between 5 and I already said I wouldn't ramble on so here...)

Rosethorn, Yay you like long stories *is happy* glad you're still reading ^_^

Penchy-chan the plot deducer (sounds like a juicing machine...) Me? Sick of you? I like it when people try and figure out what I'm doing ^_^ All questions will be answered in due course. And here's two of mine... What do you count as an epic....? and Is this chapter long enough? Well even if you do complain I like where I ended it... Muha!

Assena, it's a STICK! Sorry. All I could think of to say. ^_^ *starts singing about boomerangs*

Goodnight all!

Chapter Fifteen: Communication and War

Gohan lay on the ground somewhere in the middle of the city, carefully watching the sky. He'd been brought down by a blast of incredible power as 18 had joined the fight, but he was pretty sure she'd hit her brother just as hard. He rolled onto his stomach, pushed himself onto his feet and ducked behind some rubble, waiting for air to enter his lungs after it retreated somewhere free from abuse when he'd hit the ground. He didn't want to be caught breathless when the couple started looking for him, again.

There was another blast about a block to his left , and some outraged yelling on 17's part. Gohan couldn't make out words, but it sounded as if the male was not happy about his sister blasting him as well as Gohan.

18 yelled back, just as outraged, and Gohan wondered if he'd have the miraculous luxury of watching his two most hated enemies finish themself off. It was almost too much to hope for, and Gohan tried hard to hope and not to hope; it was too hard, having high hopes dashed, but he wanted them dead so much!

18 drew her arm back and in no time at all a black streak shot through the air mere feet away from Gohan and shattered through a window, sending glass shards flying in all directions. Gohan followed, arm shielding his eyes, and pounded both his fists into 17 on his bounce from the ground, making him bounce again. The android came back the second time ready for Gohan's attack, cursing his sister while he shot blast after blast in Gohan's ever-moving direction.

Trunks dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop his tears while bringing his breathing back into it's regular motion. His right hand hit his scouter, which he'd forgotten he was wearing, and he took it off and stared at it, thinking of nothing while letting the cool air dry his too-warm eyes. He thought about crushing the scouter in his hand, then thought 'These are communication devises... I wonder if I can find something to amplify the signal. I wonder if I could get through to Earth.'

It was a long shot, but worth clutching at straws. Trunks picked himself up and walked the length of the roof, round to the opposite side of the Palace from the Krinchi quarters. He swung over the edge and drifted downwards peering in through the windows, looking for something that resembled his mothers lab, big computers or some such.

It took him a long while to find a promising window, but the room it looked into was empty -it was probably about three in the morning, and unless Saiyans were like Bulma and sort of forgot about time when they were working, then there probably weren't going to be any close by, either. The window was locked, but he pulled out a handful of ki and watched as the window slowly melted. "Now that's cool." Trunks whispered to himself, a true ten year old boy, and wondered why he'd never tried melting things before. He slipped through the window, looked around through the group of rooms just to make sure no one was around, then looked for a computer that resembled...well, anything recognisable.

The room was a large one, computers and other instruments lined the walls, and a large table in the middle of the room. There were four doors leading into four other rooms of the same design, but Trunks stayed in the one with his melted window, a quick exit in case anyone should wake up.

He thought he could probably manage to work out the largest computer by the far wall, especially if the green folds of paper underneath the chair was a manual. It wasn't, but there was one in the store cupboard near the door. Trunks became very glad that he hadn't smashed his scouter, not only did it translate from Saiyan, it translated into something he could actually understand, but he had an awful thinking-headache by the time he was done working it all out, nearly two hours later.

The computer switched on silently and waited for instructions, and Trunks -with frequent trips back to the manual to find out his next instruction- gave them to it. He spent too long for his liking -it would be getting light soon- searching around the back of the computer looking for the right plug to connect with his scouter, and even longer finding Earth's communication coordinates before the little box indicating he should speak popped up on the screen.

For a moment, Trunks sat staring at the screen. He wasn't sure he'd actually believed he could do it, but the square on the screen clearly indicated that he had. Regaining sense, Trunks pressed the little yellow button as the manual indicated and on tip toes leaned forward to the screen. "Hello?" He said experimentally.

Somewhere in Argentina a group of very surprised astronomers were choking on their lunch as their instruments picked up unidentified signals from somewhere out in space.

"Mi Dios!" Cried one, swallowing a pickle, but getting over the surprise rather well. "A-Alo?"

"Hi, um, is this Earth?"

There was a short conversation in astonished Spanish between the man and his workmates.

Trunks tried again. "Can you get me Bulma Briefs, from Capsule Corp? Please?"

"S-Senora Breifs? Si, ella conozco....un momento."

There was another conversation, then an argument, then some keyboard noises. Trunks waited.

It took rather longer than a minute, with frequent requests that he wait 'un momento' more. The wind was picking up outside the window, fluttering the manual and blowing at Trunks' hair. Trunks stood up to shut the window but remembered there wasn't one to shut when he reached it. Over the horizon dawn was breaking, or false dawn at least, a little natural light adding to the never-quenched lights of the city. Trunks stuck his head out the window to feel the wind, which was blowing wildly now, crashing against the Palace wall with a vengeance. He took a deep lungful of it, and realised that he was hungry, and that he hadn't slept all night.

 A sleepless night would be well worth it though, if he could get through to Bulma before anyone barged in and tried to stop him.

Trunks left the window and picked up a chair, forcing it against the door leading to the hallway in one of the other rooms. He did the same for the other three doors in the other three rooms, then the each door between him and them. He didn't think for a minute that the chairs would stop anyone, but at least he'd hear anyone trying to come in, and have a few seconds before they burst in, getaway time. 

Sitting back down at his computer, Trunks watched the blank screen and listened to its whirrs and whizzes while it thought. He rescued the manual from blowing out the window, and set it down under a chair.

"Come on." Trunks moaned, bored as well as anxious. "Hurry up."

Perhaps three minutes later, the computer beeped and the screen fuzzed grey. Trunks jolted upright from his slouch, and watched the screen with baited breath. The grey fuzz picked up colour, and too slowly turned into Bulma's face, looking tired and overworked.

"Mum?" Trunks whispered, scarcely daring to believe, it would drain too much if he woke up now, and found it was all a dream. 

Bulma seemed to jerk awake more than her son had. She's just had a rather long and difficult conversation with someone who's accent was so thick she could barely understand it, and was in a bad mood from being dragged away from the ship in order to answer a call from ...where?

"Trunks?" She gasped. "Oh my boy! Are you alright!?" She'd leaped off her chair and had one hand up against the screen.

"Mum!" Trunks felt like dancing round the room. He'd done it! "I'm-I'm alright, I guess." He said. 

"You guess?" Bulma demanded. "Trunks, where are you?"

"Planet Vegita." Trunks said slowly, as if it was his own fault he was there. Bulma didn't notice.

"Oh we thought so! Oh Trunks, I've missed you too much!" Bulma's eyes pricked, but she blinked back the tears.

"I've missed you too, I want to come home! But..."

"Well don't you worry about that, we're coming- there's a but?"

Trunks smiled wryly. "My friend is in danger, and I don't want to run away and leave her. The person who's trying to kill me won't-"

"WHAT!?" Bulma shrieked. "There's someone there who's trying to kill you?! Are you sure you're alright!"

"I am now." Said Trunks, not sure that he was but too proud to say anything else. "I'm pretty sure I know who it is, and I have tasters-"

"What?" Bulma interrupted again, not quite so loudly.

"Um." Trunks said. "Um, I'm kind of here as their Prince."

Bulma was silent as she absorbed this information. "Well, you better not get used to it." She threatened, and Trunks laughed.

"I don't think it's possible to get used to. What I'm saying is, I was trying to find a way off but now, I think I have to stay and sort things out for a little longer, this place is really messed up, mum, I can't leave people in danger-mum don't cry!"

Bulma couldn't help it. She had practically crawled onto her desk to get closer to the screen, and she couldn't stop her tears now. He sounded much older than he was, it wasn't right for a child to sound so responsible. He sounded like Goku. Bulma drew in a shaky breath. " Oh Trunks! I want you back home!" She wailed, then swallowed her sob and calmed down, trying hard to accept it. "Just don't...do anything stupid. Promise me." She raised both her eyebrows, and looked at him.

"I won't." Promised Trunks, putting his hand up to the screen next to her's.

"Good, because sometimes you take after your father in that respect." Bulma smiled. "And you-what?"

Trunks had tensed visibly as he heard the far door's knob turn and someone bang into the door. "I have to go! Love you mum, say hi to Gohan for me!" 

"Trunks? I love you too! Take care!" Bulma called, as Trunks dropped under the computer desk and yanked all the cords out of their sockets. The scren fizzled grey then died into black as the door in the room next door was bashed down loudly, Trunks ran for his window, and the door between him and them was rattled then forcibly opened.

By the time the workers had entered the room it was empty, all but for the wind blowing wildly through the usually still air, a lot of misplaced chairs and a melted down window.

Sena and Pasha had both passed through the doors of the headquarters before the wind picked up into a rough and violent storm outside. It was the same place Sena had come after loosing her bracelet, the small upper level resembling a misfortunate house while the lower level -below ground- had chairs and desks scattered about. Pasha pushed the door open and entered the room, a few of the dozens of saiyans gathered there turned to face them, then went back to their conversations. The room was warm from the body heat of the saiyans, men and woman brought together by what the Council and their alliance with the Arkosians had done to their lives. 

Sena followed Pasha as she pushed her way through to her own little corner, and sat down on her chair.

"You're supposed to be at the Palace." A low voice spoke up from the couch by Pasha's desk. 

Sena's heart called out 'Daddy!' and she ran forward three steps before getting control of herself and stopped. "Welcome home, Father." She smiled.

"I fetched her back, Bardock," Pasha said. "There were rumours flying everywhere, a Krinchi her description, a knife in the Prince's room."  
Bardock looked up at Sena. "You were careless?"

"I was set up." Sena said defensively. She sat down heavily in another chair.

Bardock frowned. "Brilliant." He growled, "and how long did it take you to get that position?" He asked rhetorically.

Sena didn't say anything; it wasn't her fault, but she wouldn't say so.

"Do you know who?" Bardock asked. 

"Lushka, Maroda's daughter." Sena said. Bardock flinched at Maroda's name. Sena went on. "The girl's been getting close to the Prince, it's her mother's hand that guides her."

"That doesn't explain why she set you up."

Sena swallowed hard. "She knows about me." She said, sinking in her chair."About you, I mean, and who you are. She said she'd expose you -everyone- if I didn't try to kill the Prince the first night. His Jerkship backed her up, they're in it together."

Bardock's fists clenched until his knuckles were white and the wood cracked under his large hands. "That snake." He spat. "It all started with her, she's the evil at the core." He stood up and started pacing. Many of the other saiyans turned to watch.

"Her? I thought Parsnal started everything." Sena said before she could stop herself. A murmur of agreement went up through the newer members of the Rebel gathering. But those who had been with Bardock and his crew since the beginning knew well the events that lead to the birth of the Rebels. The events that mattered little now, except to Bardock, and to Sena, and  because present conditions were more crucial they were not passed on to newer members.

"The snake...knew your mother." Bardock said, still pacing as if sitting still were too much of an effort. Sena sat up straight; it was a rare thing to hear her father talk of her mother. "They were friends since childhood, they grew up in the Palace. Their friendship deteriorated when Alina was picked as mate for Prince Vegita. We had met sometime before, and had our son before he was sent off. The Council knew nothing of that, to blind to see through their gold-dripped eyelids. Maroda hated her once best friends with all the jealousy her heart could muster. Alina knew this, but she would not accept it. It wasn't the danger she was in from her friend that drove her into exile, it was the looming wedding to Prince Vegita. She appeared at my door the night before the public ceremony, and we left the city. I don't believe Maroda ever stopped hunting us, although we moved so many times we were sure we'd shake her off. I would have wrung her evil neck the first chance I got," Bardock clenched his fist round the chair arm even tighter. "And I had chances, but she was still Alina's best friend. Alina, at least, believed she could come back, and so I let her live."

Sena moved closer to her father, and slipped her arm through his. He didn't show it, but he appreciated the gesture; it was something her mother would have done.

"One night," Bardock continued, "maybe four years after you were born, Sena, and a just under five since we had left the city, the Council formed their allegiance with the Arkosians. It was a shaky deal, at first, money alone couldn't seal it. Alina believed that perhaps Maroda had cooled off by this time- Prince Vegita had left the planet a few months beforehand, and now Alina saw no reason for her jealousy- so she went to find her, which was the most foolish thing she had ever done, or the bravest.

I don't know what that snake said to her, or what she did, but Alina was given as the first Saiyan gift to the Arkosian leader." The arm of the chair shattered into splinters under his hand. "The Council's true power was born that night, as was ours." Bardock finished, "that's where it all began."

Sena swallowed. "The Prince- The Prince said he would get her back." She said, looking up at her father, who was much taller than she was (she had always pictured her mother to be as tall as she, as she had received none of her height from her father.) Bardock shook his head.

"She died." He said. "Four years ago, I felt it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sena said, her voice almost a squeak. She felt her eyes prick as her hopes were slashed, and she stood up quickly. "Excuse me." She said, and left the meeting room.

No one moved. Then Pasha kicked Bardock's shin, with a good deal of force behind it. "Go after her, imbecile." She said. "Tell her now."

Bardock glared at her, then looked around the room as he stood up. "Get back to work, everyone, there's a lot that needs organising before the Seventh Night." He ordered, speaking of the final night of the Tournament. He left through the same door as Sena, and caught sight of her leaving the upper level.

"Sena." He said, and she stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn around. The fierce wind tore through the room.

"You let me believe we were fighting to get her back." She accused, her voice low. "You lied to me."

"Mm." Said Bardock thoughtfully. "Shut the door."

Sena did, slowly because she had to fight the wind for control. Once it was shut, she leaned up against it, letting it support her. There was a long pause before anyone spoke again.

"I meant what I said." Bardock said finally. "You're supposed to be at the Palace."

This was unexpected. Sena was confused. "I can't go back now-" She began, but stopped, because there was a look in Bardock's dark eyes she hadn't seen before. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean the Council never had any right to take the throne, even with the Prince gone. The eldest heir always rules. Even that little half pint they found shouldn't be on the throne."

"...What?" Sena said carefully.

You should be Queen." He said. "Alina...your mother-"

Sena didn't like where this was going. "Don't." She said, putting together pieces of a confusing and complicated puzzle. "Don't say it. I'm not..."

Bardock looked uncomfortable, heart to heart talks were not any Saiyans specialty. "Tradition goes the couple spent the night together before the public wedding ceremony, which is always a day after the private one."

"I'm NOT!" Sena cried out. "You're my father. Say you are!"

Bardock was silent.

"Say it." Sena pleaded. Bardock walked forward and let himself hug her. Even with her face buried in her chest, Sena wouldn't allow herself to cry.

"You'd make a wonderful Queen, but Maroda...she knows I'm not your father, she knows you're the one really standing in her way of the throne. Alina told her, that night she went back, but Maroda knows there's no proof, and so you're only considered a threat through me. She's making your life misery because of whose child you are."

"I'm not a child." Sena half-heartedly muttered into his armour. 

"Wait till the Seventh Night." Bardock said. "The Council is going down and Maroda with it. I'll take our revenge then, and we'll be free of them all. It's not long now. Just wait."

Gohan dodged a good number of 17's blasts, but the first one that hit him, hit him hard in his shoulder and sent him backwards. With the shock came the sudden realisation, the sudden idea of something he could do, and that he was going about the fight all wrong. Gohan flew low through the streets, dodging and keeping well out of sight until he found a place far enough from the twins but close enough so if they ran off he would know. He dropped to the ground and let his power level free; if this was to work he needed all the strength he had, and could loose none keeping his power suppressed. He intensely hoped that this would work, but was it even possible to learn an attack from a story of his father? For Earth's sake, he hoped so.

Taking two handfuls of earth, Gohan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, summoning all his energy into his hands.

'Planet Earth, lend me your strength.' 

An invisible ripple swept out from Gohan, touching everything in it's path. 

Many miles away, Chichi stumbled as her legs gave out beneath her, and she clutched the arm of the couch and tried to pull herself up, but any strength to do so with was gone. She leaned against the couch, arms wrapped around it, and just concentrated on breathing.

Bulma was asleep, and didn't notice what energy she'd regained from her talk with Trunks or her short sleep leave her. She would wake up feeling more tired than she had gone to sleep, and she had gone to sleep with dozens of hours to catch up on. Whatever dreams she was having left her, and drifted out the window in tiny motes of twinkling energy.

All over the world, people were finding themselves without the energy to walk, many fell into sleep as they were, many began to weep as they believed this was the end of their strength and the androids had finally won at last. Few noticed that the air was thick with tiny, shining lights all heading purposefully in the same direction.

Gohan watched as the ball in his hands grew and grew, and knew that it was not enough. The androids would notice the luminescent quality the air had taken on, and would see it all heading towards him. They would come soon. And it wasn't big enough. Gohan reached further inside himself for the power to release into the ball, his Spirit Bomb. Frowning in concentration he searched, and was rewarded by a full stream of light pouring out from his chest, but punished by his vision going double as he began to feel faint.

18's head snapped up as she saw small lights forming on her skin, then blowing away as if on a wind, although the air was purely calm. She tried to grasp them, but they flowed between her fingers, through her clothes, heading towards their destination. She looked down at 17, and lights were forming around him too, as he sat up and brushed himself off, brushing many of the tiny stars off him as he did so.

"What is this?' He asked his sister, joining her in the air. The two of them looked south, following with their eyes the stream of lights.

"I don't know. But I don't like it." 18 said. "Come on." She ordered, and the androids flew towards Gohan.

Gohan lay full length on the ground, not even wanting to waste the energy to stand. His hands shook on the ground, and the ball lay warm and soft between them, gently touching his skin as if comforting him.

'Please be enough. By all the Kamis in the universe. Please be enough.'

Gohan looked up. The two figures of his nightmares stood before him, smiling sadistically.

Neither spoke. They each took their place on either side of him, and raised bright blasts in their hands.

Gohan willed his small sun into the air. 17 watched it rise, unnerved that lights from his skin were still flowing into it, but 18's cold eyes were on Gohan.

"Well, at least you'll die looking at something pretty." She commented, and thrust her blast downwards into Gohan's unprotected back.

Gohan's Spirit Bomb shivered, and without any sign from it's maker, dropped from the air like a rock, shooting down towards the trio. 

The power of the blue planet smashed into ground a moment after 18's blast hit Gohan.

Their world exploded in a vast sheet of white flame.


	16. Doing and Brooding

hello all and sundry, new chapter, small wait (reason: maths test. Arg) Replies...

HI DAISY!! *waves* Glad you decided to join us, yes, I was reading what you thought I was *has terribly funny mental picture of 4 year old Trunks in a pretty dress looking up at an adult "I'm not pretty, I'm intelligent, and brave" *snort* *falls on floor in hysterics*

Anyway. If SMG makes an appearance I think...oh dear...*laugh/sob* I can't even think about that! AH!

Hey Alexis! I'm happy you're still here! Go me! I promise I won't abandon this fic either ^_^

*Guiltily watches Penchy-chan twitching* Heh, well, I HAD to end it there ^_^ It was...narratively satisfying...which is fancy talk to say I felt like being evil. 

And we say Mi Dios in spanish at school. You're probaby right about 'la conozca' *glares at Conocer" What an awful verb. Anyway. He comprado un pavo real radiactivo. Nyah.

You reming me of Daisy when you said "Now I'm officially clueless." Hehe. Sena was saying what she thought she knew, people may or may not (or may) think things that are correct, does that help? 

And hi Rosethorn who hasn't got up to ch 15 yet but hi anyway ^_^

Assena...gap is slowly being filled...^__^

Chapter 16: Doing and Brooding.

****************

Trunks slept for a long time after his escapade. After not sleeping for at least twenty four hours he had broken into his bedroom window -easier than the door, Trunks hardly though of the other reason he didn't want to use the proper entrance- and had time enough to bury himself in blankets before falling into a contented -and very warm- sleep. Under Parsnal's orders he was excused from the Second Night competitions, and he slept right through the celebrations to wake at dawn on the third tournament day. Blinking in the early sun Trunks sat up, shedding blankets and yawning, no longer tired but extremely hungry. "That's what you get for missing a day of meals." Trunks told himself, thinking it was probably what Bulma would say. He remembered something else his mother had said, "we're coming." Trunks grinned to picture Bulma -and Gohan- here.

There was a cold dinner at the table on the end of the bed which Trunks eyed hungrily then ate without caring that nothing was it's proper temperature. He wiped some gravy off his mouth with the back of his hand and burped, satisfied. 

With a purpose, Trunks got dressed. Today he wanted to find the Council and get Sena's mother back. Then he wanted to find Sena and ask what the hell was going on. And...find Lushka and see if she was still thinking sending her those guards had been a stupid thing, because he wanted someone he could be himself around; Princing wasn't the easiest job. First, though, he had to find Parsnal, because he would know where everyone was.

Even if he wasn't to willing to participate. "As I said before, Prince Vegita, calling the Council together in the Tournament sennight is just too complicated, everyone is busy." Trunks had found Parsnal in the large training room, where Parsnal had been vigorously sparring with Kumar.

"This is important." Trunks said, crossing his arms and frowning. Kumar looked at Parsnal then Trunks, bowed and exited. Trunks was briefly grateful, then turned his attention back to Parsnal "I can call the whole tournament to a halt..." He threatened, hoping he could. 

Parsnal almost glared at him, but stopped himself in time. He threw a few punches in the air. "I can arrange a meeting after the Third Night banquet with the Head," He said without emotion. Trunks smiled triumphantly, Parsnal looked down at him. "I heard there was another assassination attempt. Or to be more specific, just a murder of a couple of guards, although why he stopped at the guards is a mystery sweeping the Palace." Parsnal raised an eyebrow, "and I also heard one of the computer labs was broken into..." He lets the sentence hang in the air. Trunks kept his face carefully neutral.

"The whole Palace knows who it was, Prince." Parsnal said, amusement now touching his voice. "But with both tales the motive is, well, foggy. Care to enlighten us, on your escapade at least?"

Pause. "I called home." He said. He didn't see Parsnal's knuckles whiten. 

"Why?" 

"Because no one would let me." Trunks said, indignantly. "Because I needed to know how everyone was, because I haven't spoken to them for too long!"

"There's no need to get angry."

"Well if I'm angry it's your fault." Muttered Trunks, pointing his finger. "You started all this, kidnapping me, and I'll have you know, once Gohan gets here you'll be sorry you ever set foot on Earth." Trunks' eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. "I'm leaving the planet with them when they come. And I'm leaving here now." He turned quickly, footsteps echoing in the empty space of the gym, and pulled open the door. "I'll meet the Head in the throne room after the banquet." He snapped, slamming the door behind him.

Trunks didn't feel like finding Lushka anymore, he felt like sparring, and wished Gohan was here now. He stomped off down the hall and wondered if he could catch up with Kumar, who was a good sparring partner and wouldn't ask any questions.

Parsnal was speechless for moments after Trunks left, and his last order echoed round the gym. He shook his head and brushed some imaginary dust off his right forearm, then left the gym via the door that lead to a staircase, which in turn lead up to the higher levels of the Palace and the Head's public (well, the better portion of the public) chamber. 

"Lord Radditz!" He called as his fist banged on the door, and kept banging until the door was opened. The scent of roasted meat and dark wine wafted out of the chamber as Radditz allowed him entry. "What is it?" He asked, annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of a late breakfast.

"What is it not?" Muttered Parsnal under his breath, pushing past Radditz into the room. Radditz shut the door and sat back down at his table. "Well go on, speak." He said, taking a bite out of a large meat chunk.

"It was the Prince who broke into the main office last night." Parsnal said, and Radditz nodded-go on. "He managed to call his Ea-arthian family, and says they're coming, soon."

Radditz looked up. "Coming where? Here?" He chewed on a large radish, thoughtfully. "Ea-arthian's don't pose us a threat." He dismissed it.

"Maybe not, but our Prince would be more willing to go with them, than stay here. And there was another significant power on the planet, one that could be a threat." Parsnal remembered from his short stay on Earth. "Send out scouts, my lord, find the aliens before they arrive."

"Yeees." Radditz said. "Destroy them before they have a chance to land." He grinned. "Big guns."

"You forget about our weapon supply." Parsnal said. "We barely have the power to shoot anyone from the sky, you'll need to cultivate something with the Arkosians, promise them something in return for destroying the ship."

"I'll work on that."

"Besides..." Said Parsnal, as another thought came into his head. "If the blasts come from the Palace, the Prince is sure to believe it was under your orders his friends were killed, let the Arkosians have them, and let the Prince believe it was dirty Rebel work that destroyed them. Nurture in him a hatred for the Rebel bastards that will have him exactly where we need him."

"I do like the way you think." Radditz commented. "I'll let them have the blue planet, too, that should buy us enough favour for the destruction of one ship, don't you think?"

Parsnal nodded "But it's not even been cleared, we never had word back from the kid who was sent-" Parsnal stopped, just in case the subject was getting too close to that dangerous topic of the Head's father, which nobody was supposed to know about but everyone did. That his father was the Rat was the worst kept secret on the planet, but Radditz was never rivalled in his position of Head, his hate for the Rebel's was strong. And that was what the Council needed.

"So we clear it." Radditz said, his voice carefully level. "I'll see to that, too, after I speak with the Arkosains. Yes, I'm glad I thought of that. What else did you want?"

"Mm, also the Prince wants a meeting with you after the banquet, he's got his own idea's on ruling, so you'll need to set him straight." Parsnal said, beginning to pace across the floor of the room. 

"Do you think I need you to tell me how to do my job?" Radditz asked, almost dangerously. "I'll deal with him when he comes...What kind of ideas?"

"Oh, about not getting married, I'm assuming." Parsnal said casually, watching Radditz face.

He tensed, and swallowed a piece of meat "I thought Maroda had that all under control." Radditz growled at his Second in Command.. "You said there wouldn't be a problem."

"Hm." Said Parsnal, eyeing up a drumstick of some large fowl, and deciding against it. "Have you got anywhere on the murder of the guards? Or the Rat? I understand you sent out trackers."

Radditz sat back in the large, high backed chair and put his feet on the table. "Nothing with the guards, no one quite understands why guards were killed but no attempt was made for the Prince's life. What did the writing say this time?"

" 'Big mistake.' " Said Parsnal. Radditz though about it for a very short time then shrugged. 

"Well it's no big deal. The Rat though..." His face took on a far more dangerous look. "Pah, he's close, he's so close I can smell the bastard. No word back yet from any trackers, but they're my six best and they were only sent out two days ago. They'll find something, and when we get our report back, " Radditz drew back his lips in a smile that showed all of his teeth. "We'll have him like a rat in a dogs mouth, and snap his spine in two."

"Bravo." Parsnal said, not sarcastically enough for Radditz to notice, and clapped his hands together twice.

"Now let me finish my breakfast, and work out this gun deal." Radditz said. "Go find Maroda and get her to do something about this 'not wanting to marry' problem." Radditz dropped his feet back to the floor and picked up a drumstick. Parsnal took his leave and left.

Lushka brooded. She was sitting on her bed with her arms round her knees and frowning at the opposite wall, which was a good distance away from the raised bed; Palace bedchambers were large and well decorated. She stared at a blank space and thought about how it was all going wrong, her tail twitching furiously.

For as long as she could remember her mother had spoken of how she'd one day be a Princess, once Prince Vegita was found and Maroda could marry him, and Lushka had liked the dreams she'd had of those coming days. Just a simple, luxurious life of parties and friends and boys fawning all over her as Maroda said they would, so long as her mother was Queen. But no, then Trunks showed up, and shattered her mother's seemingly perfect plans until she had turned her head and looked down at her daughter, smiling as the plan for Queenship rearranged itself in her head.

And even then Lushka hadn't had a problem. If she was Queen she could show that arrogant Parsnal that she wasn't just a kid to be ignored, she could tell everyone what to do and she wouldn't even have to think about it, because, Maroda had promised, she would do the thinking and the politics for her, Lushka would handle the public affairs while Maroda got on with ruling. All she had to do was marry the Prince, and how hard could that be? Because with one so young he'd be taking all instructions from the Council, and the two of them would be just a Public couple. More parties and more friends and less responsibility, thought Lushka. Besides, he was really cute.

But then someone had to show up and try to kill him. Twice! Lushka pulled at her hair in frustration. And then that stupid note, which led to him actually sending half his guards away. Sometimes boys were so stupid. 

He cared though, which was more than Lushka had expected, and it made her smile so long as she didn't think of the danger it had put him in. 

She'd been right to warn him with the death of his guards. She had no doubts about that. Just like her mother had been right to see that Marunkre woman imprisoned, or executed, of whatever they did to those accused of attempted poison. Where had she got the krular from? Lushka wondered, then pulled her hair harder. That didn't matter, that had nothing to do with the problem, the big complication.

He was planning to leave, and she'd sworn not to tell, and...and she didn't know what she thought about it. If he left, life would go back to the way it was, but Maroda would blame everything on her, and life would be miserable, so it wouldn't be like it was at all.

He couldn't leave, he simply couldn't. She'd have to persuade him to stay.

There was a loud noise as another door in the apartment was banged on and opened. Lushka heard her mother's voice, then Parsnal's. She dropped of her bed and went to her door to listen.

Half a city away, Sena was also brooding. She was sitting in the little room she used to sleep in before she had moved into the Palace, more than six years ago, and she was stretching. Long ago she had discovered that she thought better when she had something else to do, so at this moment she sat with her legs in the splits position, her elbows on the floor and her head in her hands, occasionally leaning from left to right to stretch the muscles in her sides and shoulders. She was- and had been, ever since she'd found out- thinking about what Bardock had told her about her father, her blood father anyway; no other father would replace Bardock in her heart, although she wouldn't tell him that; she was too proud to share deep feelings; or too young; or perhaps just too much a Princess.

'I'm not a Princess.' She told herself angrily, stretching herself until her muscles protested against the strain. 'Blue blooded, pure blooded. If the Palace knew, you could be anything you wanted to be, so much power...' A small part of her mind said. Sena shook her head with all the force she could muster and shoved the thought out of her head completely. 'Strapped to a chair giving orders all day. Yes. What fun.' She thought despairingly, hating the former Prince Vegita for being her father, hating her mother for not escaping sooner, and hating herself for even thinking about being the Princess.

She straightened her back, shook out her shoulders and began to stretch backwards until her shoulder length hair brushed the ground, then further till her head rested on it and she could look up at the ceiling. 'So the light haired Prince is my brother,' she thought, 'If there was proof, there's a great opportunity for emotional blackmail with that fact. Considering his Ea-arthian, sentimental side.' She stretched her arms above her head. 'And when did I start thinking like Toma?' She wondered. Toma was into blackmail, it would be like him to bring it up at the gathering that was still going on in the meeting room, but he wouldn't, she knew that too. They were all too ingrossed in the plans for the Seventh Night, which Sena had half a mind to go and listen -she hadn't known anything was planned until Pasha had bought her home- but she'd find out from someone -Pasha, probably- later. 

'There's one good thing about not being related to Bardock.' Sena thought grimly. 'It mean's I'm not kin to that Council-loving bastard offspring of his...'

The voices of Maroda and Parsnal were somewhat muffled by the door between them and Lushka's ear, but she could make out words easily enough.

"Lord Radditz was wondering what happened to the Prince's marriage." That was Parsnal, and he was tempting a slap to the face with that tone of voice.

"Nothing happened to it." Maroda said. "Everything's going according to plan."

'No it's not.' Thought Lushka. Parsnal continued, "not according to the Prince, he refuses."

"You seriously think the will of a ten-year-old Prince can contend with mine, there are none who can." Maroda said icily. Lushka smiled wryly, wasn't that the truth. Parsnal didn't say anything for a while, and Lushka started to get bored.

"So what are you planning to do?" Parsnal's voice, though further away, the two must have entered the sitting room. "Lord Radditz is meeting with the Prince to discuss the wedding after the banquet. Rather, the abortion of the wedding."

There was a small crash, possibly make by an angry kick. "He's supposed to have fallen for her." Maroda muttered. "She must be doing something wrong." Lushka frowned, almost she felt the same way. With the sound of footsteps coming closer to her door, Lushka pulled back and dived back onto the high bed, pretending to still be asleep.

Gohan was struggling to breath. It wasn't an involuntary reaction anymore, he had to think about each breath, and it was always easier letting the breath out than to painfully draw it back in. Gohan wasn't sure if his eyes were open or not. He blinked, and found that they were, but he'd never had so much trouble working out what objects in front of his face were, everything was so blurred. For a long while, he just concentrated on breathing until his lungs remembered how, then he blinked again and tried to organise his eyes. Even more slowly, his vision cleared, and he could see a few feet in front of his eyes, but his head hurt if he tried to focus on anything, so he closed them again.

His back hurt the worst of anything, but his right leg had a long gash down it, and his shoulder seemed on fire. He'd felt 18's blast in all it's intensity, and then his own blast crash down on him. The Genkidama wasn't supposed to hurt it's maker, but the small amount of energy it had absorbed from the androids had been it's undoing. Gohan was sure he wouldn't hurt so badly just from 18's attack. Hopefully though, it had also been the undoing of the androids. There may have just been enough good, pure energy in it to destroy them, but Gohan felt in his bruised and broken bones the evil in the ball may have meant the destruction of him, too.

There was a slow coldness creeping up his legs, and up his arms from his fingertips. The fiery pain in his right leg was quenched with icy numbness, it took his back as he lay there, powerless, drained off all strength.

It had been a mission just to breath, but the task was all but impossible when he couldn't feel his chest.

Gohan knew that if he wanted to live, he had to move, and had to move quickly. But the muscles in his arms wouldn't oblige him, his body was beyond his control.

...Maybe a fighter's life was a fair price to pay for Earth's freedom. Gohan closed his eyes and sunk into numb darkness.

But it wasn't utterly dark, on the edge of his vision danced a small sliver light, stretching out into the darkness like a thread joining him to something unseen. The thread quivered, and Gohan heard a voice echo down the...bond?

"You can't leave."

Gohan stirred. "I'm more dead than alive," he whispered, knowing it to be true. "Why can't I rest?" 

"Because you haven't found me yet..." Came the distant reply.

A long time later, after struggling back to life for hours or days, Gohan opened his eyes, and found they would both focus on the same thing without any pain in his head. That thing was his mother, who flung her arms around his neck in relief. "Oh Gohan!" Chichi cried. "Oh my son, you're alive!"

"I guess." Said Gohan, noticing the pain in his back had faded into a dull ache, and his leg was bound in bandages. There was white all around him, Gohan concluded he was in hospital. He pushed himself up on his elbows, and found he could sit up. "The androids?" He asked anxiously. "What happened to them?"

"Oh them. They're gone. What matters is you're alive." Chichi hugged him again. Gohan could scarcely believe it. Gone. Gone...Like he had been gone, but he had been called back...Gohan frowned thoughtfully and tried to remember the voice that had done the calling, but couldn't place it.

"You're a hero, Gohan." Bulma said, standing up from behind Chichi. "You're just like your father." She still looked anxious, and Gohan couldn't tell why. 

"What's wrong, Bulma?" He asked, as he accepted the cup of water Chichi offered and drank it. No, it wasn't water, he realised, it was energy drink, and was very much welcomed.

Bulma smiled wryly. "It's the ship, it's ready to go." 

"And as soon as you get your strength back-" Chichi began.

"Whihc won't be long. Here, Gohan." Bulma held out her hand, settled in the palm was a senzu bean. 

"No." Insisted Gohan, shaking his head. "I know how many of them there are left, don't waste one on me, save it." Bulma looked down at her hand, and Chichi frowned. "I can get my strength back on-board, we should leave as soon as possible." Gohan said.

Bulma was visibly relived, waiting for Gohan to recover here...it would take too much time. Time she didn't want to spend waiting around. "Chichi wouldn't leave without you, and wouldn't let me leave without her." She said, as if she had to explain, or perhaps was just excusing herself for waiting. "Everything is now ready but you. I've packed everything you might need."

Chichi looked fierce. "He's not well enough."

"Mother, don't argue. For once in your life, please don't argue." Gohan said, slowly working his way to the edge of the bed.

"Careful." Chichi cautioned. "They said you wouldn't be walking for weeks. You were asleep four days as it is."

"I'm half saiyan." Gohan said with dignity. "I can walk." He stood up and took a few wary steps, but his legs were still wobbly and he stumbled. Chichi put her arm round his waist. His energy was still very drained. "You should probably sleep another four days." Chichi said. "But you are Goku's son..."

"I am." Said Gohan. "Come on, let's go into space."

Bulma's face brightened. "I'll sort out the doctors." She said, racing into the hall and Kami help anyone who stood in her way.

They left Earth later that day, in the evening as the blue sky began to darken. Gohan slept through takeoff, which just shows how much energy he had used; and Bulma couldn't sleep at all, and for the first twenty hours of the journey she was racing round the ship checking everything, desperate for time to go faster, until Chichi ordered her to go to bed on pain of death. Bulma lay there lying at the ceiling of the ship and listening to her two companions breath in the soft rhythm of sleep.

"We're coming Trunks." She whispered in the dark. 


	17. Alfalfa

*blinks* Gracias Rosethorn para..umm review. Yeah, my Spanish needs work, heh.

Daisy, I think if SMG showed up she'd probably get accidentally shot again. Heh heh. 22 days! OH and wait till you see what I got at the warehouse *griiin*

Penchy-chan, ah so many questions so little time!

Lushka in love, hmm, judge for yourself, she's only 12, remember, but...I'm gonna leave that but hanging cos you can find out later. And just to point it out. "She (Lushka) knew she'd been right to warn him with the death of his guards. She had no doubts about that." quote from ch 16, I may have been being overly subtle; Lushka killed the guards (or ordered them killed) to warn Trunks sending his guards away was a big mistake, cos it put further in danger, because she thought if the assassin came that night he wouldn't have the adequate protection, etc etc understand? Ok. And for the first one, you know that was Sena under orders from M and P but the true motives behind it I don't think I've got to. You all remember that right? And no one try picking out any secret spoiler messages in here cos there are none. Nyah.

"Are the Rebels even on Trunks' side?" Wait and see...

"Are the Arkosian's tampering with my wishes of seeing the Chikyuu Squad on Vegeta-sei soon?" Wait and see...

"Please don't tell me they're taking them hostage or enslave them or shooting them down on some weird planet!" Ok, I wont tell you...

"Please another chapter, another chapter, another chapter, another chapter!"

Ok. Here

Chapter Seventeen: Alfalfa (yeah, I know. *snigger*)

The voices of Maroda and Parsnal were somewhat muffled by the door between them and Lushka's ear, but she could make out words easily enough.

"Lord Radditz was wondering what happened to the Prince's marriage." That was Parsnal, and he was tempting a slap to the face with that tone of voice.

"Nothing happened to it." Maroda said. "Everything's going according to plan."

'No it's not.' Thought Lushka. Parsnal continued, "not according to the Prince, he refuses."

"You seriously think the will of a ten-year-old Prince can contend with mine, there are none who can." Maroda said icily. Lushka smiled wryly, wasn't that the truth. Parsnal didn't say anything for a while, and Lushka started to get bored.

"So what are you planning to do?" Parsnal's voice, though further away, the two must have entered the sitting room. "Lord Radditz is meeting with the Prince to discuss the wedding after the banquet. Rather, the abortion of the wedding."

There was a small crash, possibly make by an angry kick. "He's supposed to have fallen for her." Maroda muttered. "She must be doing something wrong." Lushka frowned, almost she felt the same way. With the sound of footsteps coming closer to her door, Lushka pulled back and dived back onto the high bed, pretending to still be asleep.

Somewhere in the city, a Saiyan was making a scene. Alfalfa was on the small side for anyone employed by the Council, much less the Head, who tended to go for the large bulky and -most importantly- strong type in their thugs. But he wasn't quite a thug either, he worked directly under Lord Radditz and the most junior -however, not the least experienced- of the six trackers the Head had sent out, searching for Rebel kind. 

Most people were trying to ignore him, while watching hopefully out of the corner of their eyes to see if a fight would break out as he tried to rally people against the Council and the Prince and authority in general, at the top of his voice. A few civilians were chanting along side him, but Alfalfa's well trained eye read they were only doing it because of the thrill of the moment, or perhaps just to provoke some of the city's guards; they were not organised Rebels. The large man watching from the roof of a nearby house, though, he looked a little too interested to be ordinary.

The said city guards were slow to arrive, but arrive they did, and then the fight really did break out. Alfalfa stepped back off the barrel he'd been standing on and through the crowd, just as if he was trying to get away, although he called insults over his shoulder, just like the perfect amateur Rebel.

His breath was caught in his throat as a large -huge- hand closed around it and pulled him out of sight in the narrow way between two building, throwing him down on his backside.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" His 'saviour' exclaimed. Alfalfa mentally smiled, he'd been right about the man on the roof. Far too interested to be ordinary indeed. 

"Bloody Council deserved everything I said." Alfalfa muttered, rubbing his throat. Toma looked down at him. "And that's the way to go about it, is it? I don't care how bloody silver your tongue is or how fast you think you can run after the guards arrive."

"I was going to fight them." Insisted Alfalfa, pride on his voice. "If I have to become a martyr to prove-"

"Don't bloody 'martyr' me." Growled Toma. "I'll bet you could be of much better use if you hate them so much."

"I hate them more than my blood is red." Spat Alfalfa, inserting pure disgust into his voice. "Tell me what I can do....anything."

Toma liked the look of this young Saiyan, he was young and rash (rather stupid though, Toma had to admit) but he looked eager to follow orders, and with Bardock's plans for the Seventh Night, Toma was willing to bet they needed all the followers they could get. "Come with me." He said, and launched himself into the air.

Alfalfa hid a grin. Brilliant. Nothing could be going smoother. He adjusted the small pack of gas on his back, and followed Toma into the air and back to the Rebel's small headquarters.

It was three days into the journey before Gohan was awake long enough get bored. He'd woken in the middle of the third day with enough energy to drag himself first to the toilet and then to the kitchen, where -according to Bulma- he ate for as long as he'd slept. Gohan had grinned at this, and swallowed another mouthful.

But after his breakfast, and a short tour through the four doors off the kitchen -two bedrooms, a bathroom and the bridge- Gohan sat down at the table, which was pressed against the wall, and stared out the window. Stars slowly swung past, unfamiliar stars, and moons and the occasional planet....It wasn't the most interesting view. Gohan got up and paced round the kitchen, then through each bedroom and round the bridge until Bulma yelled at him for getting in the way and why couldn't he do something useful instead of making her dizzy?

Gohan tried to be useful, but there wasn't anything to do. An uneasy restlessness had settled down on him since the androids had been destroyed, he'd felt it even in sleep, in unsettling dreams he couldn't remember. 'Hurry,' his mind said, and his pacing footsteps echoed, 'hurry hurry hurry,'

"Bulma, can't we go any faster?" He asked, passing the door to the bridge, Bulma was watching lines and dots on a screen Gohan couldn't decipher, she turned in her swivel chair to face him.

"We're already going faster than we should be, I have all the engines going at once." She said, and they had the same expression on each of their faces. 'Hurry.'

Gohan sighed, and paced past the door.

"GOHAN!" Chichi cried. "For Kami's sake! Will you just sit still! You're making me seasick." She was sitting at one of the two long, backed benches surrounding their respective sides of the table. "Look, sit down," she stood up and pointed to the seat, "and stay there, I'll be back in a moment." Chichi disappeared through the door to her bedroom she shared with Bulma. Gohan sat, and swung his feet, and drummed his fingers.

A pile of books was dumped down in front of him, hitting the table with a bang. "There." Chichi said. "We might as well use this time sensibly, you have a lot of study to catch up on."

Gohan looked at the pile of books and sighed again. Maybe study would help, it was worth a try. Gohan picked up the book from the top of the pile, and started reading about total internal light reflection.

He was drumming his fingers again before the end of the second paragraph.

It wasn't as if waiting on people was what Sena would call a fun job, but it had been her life for the past many years and the sudden break in routine left Sena feeling useless. It was midday, and the Fourth Day tournament was well under way, Bardock would be sitting in the audience at his very moment, assessing every detail of the stadium, the officials who attended, the mass of watchers and participants, everything. Sena thought he couldn't have been being more stupid, and she was sick with worry that he'd be recognised, although, in a crowd that size, how many people really knew the Rat's face? There had been many present the day he'd declared himself, at that riot which seemed years ago, but who was to say anyone who saw him then would see him again today. Still, Sena had all but pleaded to go along, she had stopped borderline, she wouldn't plead, she had too much dignity to beg.

But still, she had held her own in the argument for a long time, and it had taken Bardock too long for his liking to forbid her to follow. Sena tried not to pout, and sat on the inside of the door to the meeting room, where everyone had something to do but her.

Faint memories of her mother played on her mind, and she rubbed her forehead. She didn't need these thoughts, her mother was dead, there was nothing to change that, and she didn't want sappy emotions getting in the way. Anger was alright, anger would show the Council where they could stick their alliance.

Sena got up and started pacing down the hall. It was a good hall to pace. Long, and echoey; it took a while to reach the other end. She rested her forehead against the far wall, and the door at the other end -the one leading downstairs- opened. Toma entered, his bulk taking up most of the doorway, and he had to duck slightly to get through the doorframe. A smaller figure darkened the doorway behind him, and they both entered the meeting room. Light spilled into the dark corridor as the door opened, and was sucked back up as it closed. She watched them disappear, and went back to pacing.

Pasha was half asleep with her head on her arm, staring at a map on the wall. There was someone talking to her but she was too tired to be paying much attention, he had a droning voice, and had been going on for some time. She was going to hit something if he didn't shut up soon: his face, to be exact. Pasha wasn't the easier person to deal with when she'd been up all night.

Toma entered with a follower who's face she didn't recognise. Pasha rubbed her eyes and sat up. "Your late." She accused. Toma ignored it. "Who's that?" She asked, poking a thumb in Alfalfa's direction. Toma explained the circumstances under which he'd found Alfalfa, and Pasha sat up straight. "Are you dense?" She exclaimed, standing so she was eye level with Alfalfa. "You must be, to attempt something like that." She folder her arms over her chest, waiting to see if Alfalfa would answer. He didn't. 'One point for him,' Toma thought, he's not so thick as I thought. Talking back to Pasha in this mood was suicide. Pasha eyed him up thoughtfully, and frowned. "Toma, come with me." She said sharply, and lead him out into the hall.

She closed the door gently behind her, smothering the light from the room. Then turned on Toma.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Half-wit!" Pasha spat, forcing Toma up against the wall. "You can't just bring people back here!" She stuck out and punched his arm, the full force of her weight behind the blow. Sena spun round to watch, and sank a little further into the shadows.

"Pasha," said Toma, with little patience, "he's an amateur, and was about to get himself killed. I won't have the Council get rid of anyone that could help us."

"But to bring him back here? Without even consulting Bardock? I swear! You -are -insane!" Pasha rapped on his forehead with her knuckles, but he caught her hand before she could do any real damage, and she was in the mood to do some serious damage. "You never thought he could be working with Them? Nobody is stupid enough to go bad-mouthing the Council in public, not without a really good motive. And what if his was to find us, hm? What do you think you could have done?" Pasha's hair was almost standing on end.

"We'll keep an eye on him then." Toma said. "Until Bardock gets back, and we won't let him leave."

"Damn right we won't!" Pasha hissed, glaring daggers at Toma. Sena swore she saw the air crackle between them. "Now go up and get the last ma-" Pasha froze mid-word, and sniffed. "Smell that?" Toma sniffed. There was a warm, sickly sweet smell on the air, just inhaling a nose full made his eyes brain feel dull.

Pasha bristled like an outraged hedgehog. "Shit." She spun round and burst through the door to the meeting room, the air of which was so filled with the thick gas she could barely see the other side of the room. Body shaped lumps lay every which way over the floor, someone was choking in the corner. The noise stopped suddenly on an inhale, there was a small thud as the last body collapsed. Pasha let loose a stream of extremely colourful language, before realising she should hold her breath. Airlessly, she stumbled toward the middle of the room where there was one figure left standing. Alfalfa was wearing a mask, and she lunged towards his throat, but whether to rip it out or pull off the mask no one could tell. He delivered a sharp kick to her diaphragm that she was too numb to block, and she gasped in air, and more of the gas. Toma grabbed her arm before she hit the ground, he'd had the sense to stop breathing the moment he recognised the smell for what it was. He let her down gently, and Alfalfa leaped out of his way, grabbing a Saiyan at random and dragging his prize toward the door. Toma turned, and threw a blast toward Alfalfa, one which he ducked easily. Toma -cursing himself- raced toward him, bringing both fists down on his head. The smaller Saiyan twisted in time and Toma's blow struck him across the face, he hit the edge of the door, and the wood beneath him cracked. Toma followed, knowing they had to get out in the open before his lungs burst and he became as conscious as the rest of the Rebels. He would not let him get away. Alfalfa ducked past him and back into the room, not wasting him time by doing anything to Toma.

Tome growled, he was the stronger of the two, but Alfalfa was the faster, and the one who could breath. A severe handicap on Toma's part. Alfalfa knew that all he had to do was to keep out of his way for a few more minutes and the bigger Saiyan would have to breath, then sleep, and he could grab his hostage and run.

Toma came at him, and he wasn't fast enough to dodge all of the blows, nor the blasts that lit up the gassy air like fireworks on smoke. Alfalfa picked himself up from between two unconscious Saiyans and wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, then his hand on the Saiyans back. Toma leaped, and landed on his back, forcing him back to the ground. Alfalfa winced, and couldn't move from the spot, he rotated his neck to look up at Toma, who's cheeks were bulging. He was reaching down to rip off the mask. Alfalfa balked. No! He squirmed, and managed to dislodge a foot, but Toma had more too loose than he, and wouldn't give up easily. He dropped to his knees on Alfalfa's back, winding him, and ripped the mask from his face and crushing it with a powerful hand.

Toma felt triumphant, albeit weak and blue faced. The mask was off and Alfalfa would be as asleep as the rest of them within moments, Toma finally let out his breath, and his body forced more air into his lungs. He collapsed over Alfalfa.

The smaller Saiyan wriggled, and shoved Toma's weight from his back. He couldn't breath in anyway, Toma's knees on his back had seen to that; he was full winded.

He burst out the door into the hallway, wanting to get his breath back before grabbing his hostage. He thought about the woman who'd called him thick, he didn't like her, and thought it would be a good thing to see her in Radditz's prisons.

At the far end of the corridor, Sena was grabbing the wall trying to keep herself upright and awake. The gas had diffused as if reached down the hallway toward her, and was taking longer on her than the others. 

Alfalfa looked back into the room, and frowned, there was no way he could tell which was the woman. He kicked the doorway in frustration, and turned his head down the hall. And saw Sena.

Domdomdooom. Sorry it's shorter! Sorrysorry! I'm trying to write a gazillion things at once, will hurry and get next chapter written, will go do that now, bye!


	18. The Palace Dungeons

Good afternoon all and sundry! Now I have 5 min to get this up otherwise I'd miss my bus (again) so…

Hi Rosethorn, Enjoy this chappy! Same goes for Alexis! And Daisy (see you FRIDAY!! YAHH!!!) And Assena (its COMING its COMING!) And

Oh you meanie Penchy-chan! (*glares out at ff.net* And no one say it serves me right for cliff-hangers. I know it does, but I'm allowed to complain because….I have a tail. Nyah.) I had to trek all the way up to my room to find my Spanish dictionary, which was not and easy task. That's all I needed, more homework. Though I do have a test next week, I could start talking about Saiyan's and see what mark I get. Hm…

Ah! That went on a little to long! Gotta run! Bye!

 Chapter 18: The Palace Dungeons.

The walls around Sena wavered and darkened, and closed in. Someone was grabbing her arm, but she shook him off; she didn't want any help to walk. The someone persisted, and wouldn't let go, he was pulling her towards the stairs and he wasn't being gentle about it. Sena gritted her teeth and tried to shake off the sleepiness and her helper.

Alfalfa flung open the door and gasped in the clean (cleaner) air from the street outside, his head didn't immediately clear, but after a dozen lungfulls, it was easier to think. He bent down and scooped up the young Rebel-woman he'd dragged up behind him, she protested, but had breathed in too much of the gas to do anything about it. Alfalfa grinned, he knew Radditz had promised the Arkosains the Marunkre woman for the half-dozen packs of gas, but then, his boss always did know what the Arkosain's liked. Alfalfa wondered about his own reward. He wrapped his arms round Sena's waist and flew them both back to the Palace.

The guards at the door greeted him with a nod, and he passed through the high entranceway into the grand hall, then up the many flights of stairs to the Head's office. He banged on the door with his head, and waited. Raddtiz opened the door and looked down at him and the body he carried. "So you were successful?"

"Oh my Lord I was brilliantly successful." Alfalfa grinned, and dropped Sena's body just inside the door. She made a small uncomfortable noise, as if she was sure something was not quite right but couldn't remember what it was.

"Shut the door." Radditz said, sitting back down behind his desk. "How successful is 'brilliantly'?"

Alfalfa went to the east wall, which was covered in a detailed map of the city. He looked at it for a moment, and jabbed a location with his thumb. "Here, that's where they all are, in an underground bunker. Four dozen, perhaps."

Radditz nodded, hardly disguising the grin on his face. "Excellent. What else?"

"They're planning something for the Seventh Night."

"What?"

"Something big. A final throw, kind of thing. An attack, disruption at the least. They have maps up everywhere. They're organised and prepared."

"Then we will be too." Radditz said, and his eyes rested on Sena by the door. "We'll talk about this later. Why did you choose her?" 

Alfalfa shrugged. "She was there." Radditz got up and walked over to Sena. He squatted down and took her chin in his hand, examining her face. He laughed loudly. "You didn't realise who she is?"

Alfalfa looked long at her. "No." He said cautiously, not sure that not knowing wouldn't get him killed.

"You've done more brilliantly than we could have hoped. Consider yourself promoted." Radditz laughed again. "Take her down to the dungeons. The Seventh night is going to be fun."

Lushka walked down the hall, trying not to stomp and trying not to drag her heels. Maroda hadn't been fooled for a moment with Lushka's I-was-asleep act, it hadn't mattered anyway. 

"Go and find him. Right now. And make him stay."

Lushka frowned. How? She felt useless and not at all like she was in the mood for talking to anybody. Of course she wanted Trunks to stay, but...why did her mother have to be so...why couldn't everything be perfect! It wasn't fair! And now she was all confused and didn't like it. Trunks could probably help, she picked up her pace and hurried down the halls of the Palace with the strong desire to just speak to him.

She'd skipped the Fourth Night tournament and celebrations to calm the anger at herself her mother had ignited; she hadn't though it was a good idea to attend the banquet, even just with her friends, as her fingers were itching to throw something, which would not go down well. Thinking Trunks would probably go back to his room after the banquet like last night, she hung around the halls close by hoping to run into him without looking like she was.

She waited for almost an hour, getting grumpy and wondering where he was and why hadn't she just gone to the stupid feast in the first place? Lushka sighed, knowing that one more day before Trunks left had passed and been wasted. Why did she have to snap at him like that last night? Why couldn't she have done a better job of making him want to stay? Why was she so stupid? She glared at the wall, took one last look down the hall and went back to her room to sulk in bed.

As Lushka was waiting and feeling unworthy, Trunks was on his way up to the Head's solar, going over what he was going to say in his head, multiple lines of thought cris-crossing over each other and tripping and tangling and making a mess of his mind. Oh well, it would probably work itself out. Trunks looked up at the door, it was huge and deeply carved with the rather chunky shape of a massive fist. Trunks couldn't and didn't know if he wanted to see what the fist was holding, or squashing. He knocked on the door with his own fist, and the door promptly opened.

There was a fire as large as the fist burning in a hearth opposite the door, and two high backed, cushioned chairs were set up where the desk would have been, in front of the fire. Trunks drew in a breath through his nose, let it out through his mouth and walked as regally as possible into the room.

Radditz had heard the door click open and was on his feet and bowing before Trunks saw him. "My Lord Prince." He added with the bow, and indicated with one hand for Trunks to take a seat, which he did. "I am Lord Radditz, Head of the Council of Vegita, and I am honoured you wanted to talk with me tonight." Raddtiz said carefully, wanting the boy-Prince to have him in his good books lest thing get further out of control. "What was it you wanted of me?"

"Uh, well first about someone you sent to the Arkosians, a few years ago. She was the mother of a friend," Trunks paused, wondering if that was the right work if Sena really had left the note and killed the guards, he realised he'd stopped talking and began again, "a friend of mine, sold to them before I got here, and I promised to get her back."

Radditz tensed. Someone the Prince was friends with had a mother sold to the Arkosians? And he was close enough with this person to have promised to get her back? "Who was this person?" He demanded, as politely as he could.

Trunks thought of Sena safety first, but then, she had run away a few nights ago. Trunks wondered what he was doing. "Does it matter who she was?" He asked, "I have to talk to her again and she'd come back if her mother was here."

"Of course it matters who 'she' was." Radditz said. "How else are we to find......her mother." He added quickly.

"Well, you could get everyone who was sold back." Trunks suggested, watching the fire. He didn't see the look of shock and outrage on Radditz's face. Get them all back? What was he thinking?

"You don't understand, my Lord Prince, they're not our property anymore, such a recall would be all but impossible."

"All but," Trunks raised an eyebrow, looking up at Radditz in his great mass of black hair, frowning slightly. 

"It would be impossible." Radditz said bluntly. "Understand that we can't risk destroying the alliance with the Arkosians, with the Rebel's disturbing the main workforce we can barely afford to pay them as it is. We don't want to bring on open war by insulting them like that."

"But," began Trunks, "if I could..." He wasn't sure where to take that. Radditz took the small pause as an opportunity to change the subject. He considered attempting to pry Trunks of this idea of going home, but if Trunks knew that he knew he'd wonder why the Council did nothing to stop his friends inevitable deaths. "And about the wedding," he began, also needing to think about this mystery friend of the Prince's. 

"Yes. That." Said Trunks. "You really think I'm going to marry someone? 'Cos I'm not."

"I think this is another political matter that you don't understand." Radditz said, through his teeth. 

"Too bad." Said Trunks, folding his arms. "End of story."

Radditz gritted his teeth. 'Let it go,' he told himself, 'let Lady Maroda take care of it.'

"Well that's not a matter for now." He told Trunks. "If you will excuse me, I have other matters to take care of. Was there anything else?"

"You're not going to force me?' Trunks asked, suspicious at the sudden drop of topic. 

"We'll see." Said Radditz non-committingly.

"And Se-...ah, my friend's mother?" 

"I said already. Nothing can be done about that."

'Well maybe you can do nothing, but I made a promise.' Trunks said, envisioning more scenes of climbing out windows at night. "Fine." He said, still none too happy. 

Radditz watched him leave, then rapidly drained the rest of the wine resting on the arm of the chair and stood up. Alfalfa peeked through a slightly opened side door between the solar and the small roo he'd been waiting in. When he saw Trunks was gone he pushed the door the rest of the way open and entered the room. The look on his face said that something inside him was dancing round pleading 'can we go yet? Can we go down? Canwecanwecanwe?' But he stood straight and still and waited for Radditz's orders.

"Come on." Radditz said, seeing the anticipation written all over him. Alfalfa performed a very small bounce and followed Radditz through the main door and down many flights of stairs to the dungeons.

Sena's eyes were sticky as she blinked them open to the sight of her breath pluming out in front of her face in the cold air. At first, she wondered why she was so uncomfortable. She dragged her arm out from underneath her body and lay on her back, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, waiting for recognition to set in; the past few nights she had woken up in her unfamiliar room back home, and knew she just needed to wake up a little more and remember where she was. She shook herself loose from restless sleep, and she still didn't know. Panic set in with the cold. 

Sena sat up quickly, closing her hands around two fistfuls of cold sand. Her brain pounded against her skull as it was assaulted by this new upright position, but sacrificing a hand to hold her head would mean she'd slip back down to her hollow in the thin sand, and she didn't think lying down again would be a good idea. Heart pounding, and pride fighting to get it under control, she looked around. 

She had lain by a wall, made of thick heavy blocks of black stone. There were five walls, one had to have been a door, but she couldn't tell which. Sand covered the floor, half a foot deep, cold and clammy against her skin, she brushed it off her cheek and arm and shivered.

Something was very wrong. 

The sand rustled in one of the corners, and Sena's attention snapped to the other occupant. She had her back to Sena, long black tangle of hair shadowed her bare arms and barely clothed, dark skinned back, and she leaned against the wall as if she couldn't sit up by herself. She wasn't about to turn around to look at Sena, and Sena wasn't about to crawl around half the cell to see her face, it would be too nosy.

She struggled up, one hand on the wall for balance, and pounded the stone with the side of her fist. Nothing happened. She hadn't expected it to but she had to try. Nothing moved any of the other bricks either, but then, she hadn't expected that, either.

The other woman blinked and looked up at Sena with dark and tilted eyes filled with too much pain, then turned her attention back to the wall she'd been staring dully at. Sena looked down at her.

How do you keep a Saiyan prisoner from blasting the wall down around them? How do you break a strong spirit that just nights ago was dining with the Prince at the First Night banquet? How do you drain them of so much strength that they haven't the power to move, yet their body is unharmed for sale and bargain purposes?

A thick wire covered in blood old and new was wrapped around her tail. Long, fishhook barbs reached out to snag anything that came too close, and the same spiked, metal razors sliced through tail-flesh and settled down between her bones.

Sena turned away. She couldn't even bare to look at such a perverted means of suppression and control. A Saiyan's tail was the most sensitive part of the body...She tucked her own tail firmly and protectively around her waist.

But she didn't have time to think about it because one of the walls rumbled, and opened.

There were two men standing as silhouettes in the doorway, one moved a step forward. "Well met, little sister.

"Come with me." 

Not well met, Sena turned to face them both, keeping her face emotionless. She shook her head, face fearless.

"Ah." He turned his head so the light caught on his face and features, and grinned as if he owned the world. "That's no way to behave to your older brother."

Sena's stomach flipped upside down, and stayed there. She felt physically sick. "Surprised to see me?" He continued, in that patronising, arrogant tone.

She hadn't been surprised, not really. The chill in her blood had given her a fair warning. Still, surprised and shocked are not the same thing. Sena was frozen on the spot.

"What's your Daddy planning?" Radditz moved into the cell, hands in fists on hips and looming. Sena didn't move. "But you're not going to tell me. Are you sis? No, I didn't think it would be so easy. I'll even say that you probably won't know...why would the Rat tell his runt daughter?" Sena glared, the man behind Radditz laughed.

"Well I won't take that chance only to have myself embarrassed on the Seventh." Radditz said, and sighed- mocking. His hand shot out and grabbed Sena's wrist, and he pulled her roughly out of the cell. Sena followed, if she fought back now she'd just be beaten up, the least she wanted to do was get a look around this place to get her bearings straight.

It was a long narrow hallway with a low ceiling and lower light, Radditz high hair brushed it's roof. There were few doors leading off it, and it turned off at the end into a larger room. Sena looked up and around for natural light, anything to indicate being close to the outside, but the dungeons were under the very heart of the Palace, a heart that beats with blood and pain. Sena shuddered in the silence, a long slow shiver that said she didn't like at all where she was being taken. Her wrist twisted in his hand as she tried to pull loose, she dug in her heels and lashed out with her other fist. It was caught by Radditz hand before it could hit, and he forced it backwards until all three heard the crack, and Sena's rapid intake of breath and small cry of pain that was the first noise she'd made since she had woken up. Hot pain coursed up her wrist and down her hand, and she fought to keep it under control. 'I will not let them see it hurts. I will not give them that pleasure.'

Radditz jerked on her other arm, pulling her forward and sending her through one of the doors onto another floor in another room. 

With burning eyes and a burning wrist and out of place dignity Sena forced herself to her feet, not about to be caught cowering on the ground. 

"Deaf and dumb as the walls, are ya?" The smaller Saiyan behind Radditz teased. "Answer your Lord before he has reason to punish you."

Sena looked up at Bardock's son with a look of such disgust and hate Alfalfa winced. 'He is Lord of nothing.' She thought. 'Lord of me never.'

"I have reason enough already." Radditz said, and each word was invoking nausea in Sena's belly she refused to show. She was keeping so much bottled down inside she was finding it hard to think straight. "Well, can you talk or not, runt?"

Sena remained silent. Glaring and shaking violently with anger that has nowhere to go. Her eyes flashed, and Radditz stepped forward and struck her across the face. Sena picked herself up from the ground and turned her eyes -utterly black, now- back to Radditz. 

"Do you want her, before we get started?" Radditz held her glare even when speaking to Alfalfa, who screwed up his nose and spat on the ground.

"Bed a Rebel slut? You insult me, my lord."

Sena knew she should feel relived, but she was having trouble feeling anything save from anger right now. 

Radditz grunted. "Fine." He lunged forward with a heavy fist, Sena pulled back and blocked with her arms. Still the force of the blow made her arms ache. The next numbed them both.

The speed of her reactions was still gripped by the gas, but she'd shaken off as much as she could and was blocking each blow as fast as her body would allow her to move. Even though, she knew Radditz was holding back in speed and strength and she hated him even more for not fighting honourably. She ducked under another incoming fist and heaved both her ki-glowing hands up into his ribcage, and used her much smaller size to force him a few feet back. 'Filthy. Rotting. Scumbag. Bastard.' She though with each punch, scarpering out of the way of his fists as best she could. He cheated, sticking out a foot to trip her then bringing both hands down on the back of her neck. Sena didn't count this as fair play at all. Her fists were clenched so tightly there was blood running down her arms and making sticky, gritty pool in the sand on the ground. 

'They won't get one word from me, not one sound. And if that means I'm not allowed to scream, then very well, I shan't scream.' And even Sena was aware that this was going to be a hell of a lot harder than it sounded.


	19. Some explosions

Hi everyone.

Yeah, I was on a roll, but then I kinda fell off into the rather strange world of Harry Potter Fandom with not a little treacle on the side. But that's a different story. Apologies for making this so long in coming, and on with it....

Chapter 19 : I'm going to be unprofessional today and not name this chapter anything. An then see who notices.

Bardock returned home at sunset. He saw the door swinging on it's hinges; heard the silence coming from inside, and bolted through the door and down to the basement. His Rebel's were beginning to stir from their random piling on the floor.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!!!" Bellowed Bardock, and many of the saiyans -awake or still unconscious- winced.

"Bardock." Croaked Pasha from the floor near his feet, he held out a hand to pull her up which she accepted, stumbling a little on her feet. "He had a type of gas, knocked us all out. I -I'm not sure quite what happened."

"Who? A traitor?"

"No. Council member- or lackey." She stood still, drawing in clean air. Bardock cast a glance over the room, searching for an unfamiliar body, Pasha was doing the same thing when she laid eyes on Toma and picked her way over to help him up too. He pushed himself up to sitting position.

"Got his mask off." Muttered Toma immediately. "If he's not here he's gone."

"Then what are we waiting for?! Get everyone up! We're leaving!" Bardock ordered, pulling sayains roughly to their feet, and although a good number toppled back over, more stayed up, pulling plans and maps from drawers and cupboards. "Leave everything that can be spared, we'll blow this place up when we've gone. Pasha, head count, make sure everyone here. If they're not- bah, we'll have to leave without them." Pasha nodded and started counting the Rebel's, which wasn't easy when they were all running round. 

Bardock looked around the main room for Sena, when he couldn't see her he walked down the hall to her room. She wasn't there either. Bardock frowned, and checked the upstairs.

"Rana's group's not here, Bardock." Pasha reported, coming up behind him as he looked over the entrance shack. "Just five of them."

"Would Sena have gone with them?"

Pasha looked up at her leader and knew what he was thinking. "Pro- Probably not."

"I thought so." Growled Bardock angrily, deep in his throat. He was glaring into space with such a look Pasha was relieved it wasn't aimed at her. 

Bardock swung round and put his fist straight through the wall, and yelled wordlessly in frustration and anger. Pasha looked at the floor. Damn Council, if they'd hurt her -Pasha's fists clenched tighter.

"Get everyone out immediately!" Bardock shouted again. "They're not going to leave us alone, they'll be coming back. Out! And we'll deal with them later."

Twenty seven Rebels hung in the air about their old headquarters as ki formed brilliantly in Bardock's hands, and fell downwards onto the entrance shack, which promptly exploded. The dust cloud mixed with the smog of the twilight, which would aid in hiding them from eyesight -though not scouters. 

"Take separate routs." Bardock said, making sure he sounded like he had a plan, which he certainly did not. "We'll regroup tonight in the mountains to the east. Make sure you're not followed. Get there as soon as possible -sooner, if you can. Go."

The dispersed in threes and fours, in all directions. Pasha and Toma stayed with Bardock, who was looking toward the Palace.

"We'll come with you." Pasha said. "I can't stand the thought of her in there with them."

Neither could Bardock, his short fingernails were embedded into the flesh of his palm. "We can't. Not till the Seventh." He said. "I can't risk botching everything up just to rescue her. We'll have to wait, it's only two more nights."

"Bardock honestly! They could kill her!" Pasha said. "I'll go myself."

"You will not be so stupid!" Ordered Bardock loudly. Pasha closed her mouth but glared. "They will not kill her because their Head will know who she is. He's a fool but he'll know he can use her against us. She'll be alive next time we see her. And then he'll be dead. Pasha, save it for the Seventh. Toma, you have a battle to report to me."

Toma nodded, he wasn't looking forward to admitting he was the one who had lead Alfalfa to them. It was a mistake he was furious about, and was every bit ready to take his anger into the Palace right now to right his wrongs. Bardock took off east, towards the distant mountains. Pasha and Toma exchanged glances filled with the same desire to destroy the Council now, and followed. Neither was feeling the desire stronger than Bardock.

***

"MMmmmm." Chichi yawned, blinking up at the sperical lights scattered over the ceiling. They doubled and blurred, and Chichi thought it was probably time to go to bed. She'd been looking over the controls and trying to make sense of the star map on one of the screen. As she passed through the control room quater doorway into the main quater, the screen started beeping. Chichi jumped, and turned back round.

There was a new dot on the screen -no, there were two: one was probably a planet, by the look of the other planters on the star chart; the other was smaller. Chichi thought about waking Bulma, but she was so deeply asleep, and hardly ever got a proper night's full, Chichi decided to leave her; tell her in the morning.

Far away, the smaller dot was registering Bulma's ship on their radar, and was sending a 'ready and waiting' message down to the Planet Vegita.

***

Sena wasn't sure she would have woken so soon if her breathing hadn't been obstructed by the clammy sand her face and body lay in. As carefully but as quickly as she could -which wasn't very- she moved her head that half inch she needed before she could breath in air and not sand. 

Breathing hurt. A few grains of the sand that were not pasted to the ground with sweat -and blood- has taken residence in her throat, and she needed to cough. And she was cold again. The blood on the sand was no longer warm, but not yet dry; she'd only been thrown back in here a short while ago. She was glad, she wasn't going to stay drifting from consciousness to unconsciousness; grey to black, for long if she could possibly help it. 

Her right arm wasn't broken, and she used it to push herself up, drawing on the solidity of the wall to support her back as she sat against it.

The grains of sand in her throat tickled again, and she coughed involuntarily. Sena's lung felt like the cough would tear them open, there was a daemon in her stomach pounding against her ribs, sending fiery pains in all directions. Then she needed to gasp in more breath, but she was controlled enough to do this slowly, with her head tipped back leaning against the wall, eyes closed.

It felt as though she was sinking into darkness again, but she didn't think she was. The black inside her eyelids shrunk away as something luminescent lit up the room with a warm, yellow glow.

Careful now. Take it slow.

Sena opened her eyes, head on a tilt still against the too-hard stone wall. The cell was alight with the radiance omitting from the stranger standing tall in front of her, and Sena jumped in panic, but couldn't otherwise move.

He was tall, bathed in golden light, and obviously a saiyan. A tail the same colour as his hair wrapped around his waist. Super Saiyan. Sena blinked as he knelt down in the sand beside her.

"It won't hurt for much longer." The rise and fall of his voice was sparingly familiar, as if she'd known if from a very long time ago.

"Yes. It's been a very long time since we met. Lifetimes. I'll try and find you again, I believe we're being drawn together."

Sena stood up easily, as if she weighed nothing and felt no pain, and none of her wounds protested. Indeed, all over her body her skin was bruised and unbroken. She looked up at him, then down at the sand where her real body was slumped against the wall.

"I don't remember." She whispered, looking from her hurting body to the one she stood in. "I don't understand."

He closed his arms around her. "I'll keep you warm tonight." He promised. She knew his arms and the warmth his body made against her own -even though it really wasn't her true body- and she tried to remember as she fell asleep, warm and painless in his arms. She slept before she remembered.

***

Gohan woke up slowly, savouring the dream that was fleeting even as he tried to stop it. He thought of warmth and someone sad, but it had been a good dream, if unusual. He finally registered why he'd woken up: someone was banging on the door. Gohan pulled himself out of bed and opened it.

"Good. You're awake." Said Bulma. "Come and see this." She was still in her dark blue dressing gown, and her hair was tied roughly in a pony tail at the back of her head, done quickly. Gohan followed her to the control room. "We're almost there." She said, sounding happy and worried at the same time. "Look, that's Planet Vegita, we should be there tonight."

"Excellent." Said Gohan. "So what's the problem?" There was obviously a problem. Bulma didn't walk around with her hair like that if she had a hairbrush nearby, not without good reason.

"That dot," she pointed to the smaller dot Chichi had seen the night before. "It's a ship. It's a very large ship, and it's coming straight towards us."

"Oh." Said Gohan.

"Yes. Oh." Said Bulma. "I think the best thing to do is double back and try to loose them, we'll loose time, too, but I don't fancy out chances should that great things start to fire."

"Well...you're the boss. I guess." Gohan said.

"Of course I'm the boss!" Bulma retorted. "And don't look like that because I don't like it any more than you do." Gohan wiped off the look he hadn't been aware was on his face. "Right, I'll go and make breakfast, shall I?"

"Yes please." Said Bulma. "I'm starved!"

The ship slowly changed course, ducking behind a drab looking planet and heading off round the left of Planet Vegita.

The Arkosian ship, however, was no so easily fooled. Radditz' orders were clear, just shoot them from the sky.

So this is what they then proceeded to do.

***

At breakfast on the Sixth tournament day, Lushka could barley eat anything. She had another row with her mother the night before, and was now refusing to talk to her; she'd spent the previous night sleeping in one of her friend's chambers. And now, her mission was to find Trunks. She was so angry at her mother she wanted to shatter every plan she'd made, and so Lushka was going to tell Trunks everything she knew. If only she could find him.

He was late for breakfast, and Lushka's heart or stomach fluttered when he finally came in, dressed as a Prince. She pretended to eat while really watching him from the corner of her eye, somewhere down the long table, and she waited and waited for him to finish eating and leave. As soon as he was alone, grabbed him by the forearm and dragging him off into an empty room before he could say so much as 'wha?' 

"There's thing I gotta tell you." Lushka said, panting a little from dashing down the halls after him. 

"Hello to you too."

"Oh, don't." Lushka said, then froze, apparently "It was my mother -she sent the note, the threatening one. She set it up, maybe more, she's a vicious, vindictive, utter bitch. I hate her! She's had people killed and she's been so horrible to me because it was you that got off that ship and not her Prince Vegita. This whole big wedding plan's all to do with her and the Council, it's all she wants, but she's clever and she'll find out I told you and I'll never be able to go back and...and...oooh." Lushka said, sinking down into a chair. Trunks was surprised that anyone could say that much that quickly, and didn't actually process much of this information. 

"Uh." He said, oh so cleverly. "Um, say that again." 

She looked at Trunks, as if he should have taken it in the first time. "My mother had the connection with the weapons dealer set up, she had him give you the note." She said, slower this time, her voice full of almost controlled anger.

"So...No one's threatening you?"

"Not via notes, no." Lushka muttered.

Trunks looked washed over with relief. "I can go home!" He said, throwing his head back and his arms out. His mother and Gohan would be here soon, with their ship, and he could give this all up and go home now that no one was in danger because of him. Wonderful!

Lushka's face fell, her bottom jaw trembled slightly, then to Trunks' surprise and utter horror, she burst into tears.

Trunks's arms dropped back to his side and he stayed standing there, as if waiting for her to stop crying and say she was just teasing. She didn't; she slithered off the chair and sat on the floor, her face pressed just above her knees. Trunks was looking decidedly uncomfortable now, and approached her as if by doing so he'd make it worse.

"Oh, you, just get out of here!" She snapped, her voice slightly muffled against her legs. "Go on! Go! Run home!"

"Um." Said Trunks, squatting down next to her. "That's not what you want." He was sure it wasn't, but he hadn't thought she'd react like this; he'd thought it'd be a hug and easy goodbye.

Obviously not. "You'll be leaving, you won't be Prince here any longer. You can't tell me what I want or don't." There was a nasty tone in her voice, amplified by the sobs she was holding in. "You're so thick!" She spat, "if you think they're going to just let you leave. If you think that they won't try and shoot your ship out of the sky, if you think...If you bloody thought at all!" She ended, her arms still wrapped around her legs.

"I did think." Trunks said (slightly unsure if he meant it.) Lushka made a stifled 'ha!' noise from behind the wall of leg. "I did! I thought we were friends."

"I...well..." Said Lushka, a little softer. She hadn't been expecting that, it was the last thing anyone she knew would have said. "I...I'm not going to be able to go back to...to how I was before, my mother's practically disowned me, without her influence, I won't be welcome at my girl-friends places anymore, or in the Palace, and without you here I might as well be dead. I can't survive out there." She waved one hand in the air, indicating outside the Palace walls. 

"Well, you could...come back with us?" Trunks suggested.

"What?" Lushka asked, shakily. "Leave? I...can't leave."

"But you just said-"

"I'm going to have a bath." Lushka snapped, standing up and stomping out of the room. 'What the hell was that all about?' Lushka asked herself, suddenly ashamed and angry at her tears. 'Why am I walking away? Why don't I go with him? Why does he make me so confused?'

***

It wasn't an awakening, it was a slow approach through soft darkness towards the flickering light of the cell. With her eyes open only a crack, the room took a long while to come into focus. Wall, wall, wall, wall, bars. A lump of another prisoner, and the hard shine of light against the wire and barbs wrapped around a tail. 

Sena twitched her own tail, and it hurt, but not badly, not like the rest of her limbs. 

Not like she had hurt last night -or the night before. Sena felt she'd slept for a long time. But she felt better. Still she moved slowly, and silently, pulling herself into a sitting position then onto her hands and knees, she crawled through the sand to the other side of the cell, where her cell mate, the ex-noble from Marunkre, was propped up against the wall.

Sena hands found her tail and the wire, and working from the tip down, she began to remove the barbs from her flesh. 

A spasm jolted through Arienla's body, bringing her to a higher level of consciousness than she had known for days. She looked back, over her shoulder, and saw what Sena was doing.

But pride held fast. "Get away from me, filth." She spat, her voice a harsh whisper -it was all she could produce. "I don't need a Rebel's help."

Sena looked up at her, dark eyes met dark eyes. "You're not getting any other." Sena said. Arienla reached back with one hand to strike her, but Sena was sitting just out of her reach, pulling the pain from her tail.

"Nooo." Arienla moaned, in pain and disgust she wasn't sure she felt. But Rebels... they were just nuisances, they had always been horrid, bothersome...OW! She screwed her eyes shut. And this was the Rat's daughter...Arienla was a smart young Saiyain, someone, she knew, had made some seriously wrong judgements.

The last of the barbs left her tail, but she felt no different. It still hurt.

She slept.

As well as she could, Sena wrapped the wire into a loose ball, puncturing her hand at least once on the sharp metal. She left the ball in the closest corner, feeling light-headed and weak. And then she, too, went to sleep.

***

Bulma's face was pinched and looking paler than usual, as she steered the ship manually, her eyes flicking from the dot on the radar to the window behind her, where the Arkosian ship was now in sight. The grey bulk of it looked unnatural and foreboding against the otherwise black of space and stars. Goosebumps were rising on Bulma's arm but she was keeping cool in the crisis that was creeping up on them...

"They're SHOOTING at us!" Chichi shrieked, as the ship jerked sideways forcing her to clutch onto the table or fly across the room. Bulma's hands were calmly but very rapidly flying over the control panel.

"Of course they're shooting at us. They're Saiyans. Don't worry, I anticipated this..." A burst of bright, pale blue light illuminated the interior of the ship as it shot past the window, terribly close. The ship rolled half over in the air, and was pulled after the blast somewhat. Chichi had managed to scurry across the room and was holding onto Gohan's arm for dear life. 

"Bulma!" She yelled, cutting off the blood supply to Gohan's hand.

"Two seconds..." Bulma said, in the voice of one who is biting her lip. "Just mi-AH!" 

The third blast had smashed into the back of the ship, filling the air inside with the thick smell of burning. The ground leaped up and became the ceiling, and the three suddenly found themselves upside down, before tumbling back down to the was-a-ceiling-now-a-floor. Gohan caught himself moments before his head hit the floor, and turned till her was the right way up, Chichi still hanging off his arm, looking pale. 

Bulma seatbelt was pressing into her shoulders and stomach as she hung upside down in her seat, but she didn't let that stop her. There, almost done. Holding the shoulder straps she reached out with her foot and kicked at the final button, which lit up with a pale yellow glow.

Bulma sat back and sighed in relief. "Shields are up." She said, "I'll see what I can do about the gravity...the blast seems to have scrambled something."

"Seems to?" Muttered Chichi under her breath. "Seems to? Good grief..."

Gohan, feeling rather useless, turned to look out one of the back windows, where the enormous ship shot another blast towards them. There was a faint shock wave as it hit, but Bulma's shield held. Chichi sagged next to Gohan.

"Right...good, ok..." She said weakly to herself. "I think I need a coffee- or rum. Coffee and rum seems like a very good idea right now."

"Nope, gravity's gone." Bulma commented, "steering's a little off too." She twisted the controls in her hands, and the ship rocked slightly, but didn't turn up the right way, or change direction. "We're in for an interesting landing."

Neither Gohan nor Chichi liked the way she said 'interesting'

The huge mass of earth was just below them now filling the entire window with the view. The ruddy brown coloured planet was closer than any other planet had seen since they had left Earth, and was covered in tatters of silky grey cloud.

It had been a very long time since Bulma had landed a ship, and she'd never done so while hanging upside down from a chair. That, mixed with the fact that the gravity was still insisting that the ceiling was really the floor, made for a landing all three of them thought they could have done without.

***

Cousin to Pasha and long member to the Rebels was Rana, who's small group had been left behind after the destruction of the Rebel headquarters. She surveyed the scene of rubble and dust with her four companions, and a few other onlookers. 'Is this the end of us?' She thought, because that was exactly what it looked like. 

"Rana." Nor said, in low tones. "Bardock would lead any survivors to the mountains." Rana looked grim, but Nor was right, Nor was always right.

"We'll look for survivors." She told the others. "Don't hold out too much hope."

They travelled by foot until the gazes shot towards them were no longer suspicious, then they took to the air. Nor shot dark looks at the other three, warning them not to say anything. The small raid Rana had sent them on hadn't been particularly successful, and agitating her would not be the best course of action right now. Still, the Rebels couldn't stay quiet, not for long, the Council would begin to get suspicious. With the main focus now on tomorrow night, there wasn't time to keep up appearances, this job Rana took, with her lover Nor, as well allies Lin, Tatoe and Colly.

It was dark, and the night was moonless -however, something was glowing in the sky with much the same light as a moon, although somewhat smaller, and brighter, and it moved a hell of a lot faster, too, tumbling through the air towards the mountain range. 

"Speed up." Rana commanded, adding to her speed. Colly dropped downwards, letting gravity add to his speed as he plunged toward the place that -had any Rebel's survived the wreckage of their home- Bardock would be.

And there they all were, all of them! Rana allowed herself a smile, then burst out with the news of the ship -or speeding moon, whichever.

"There haven't been any off-world missions for months, though." Mused Bardock, and he looked round at his group of companions surrounding him under the sky. "Alright, let's get to this thing before the Council does."

Now you review, so I know you're still reading….^_^


	20. Grandfather

Ok,

a) Sorry it's been so long. Thanks to everyone for their reviews last time! Sorry for the terrible vaguely-cliff-shaped ending last time, and then not updating, that was nasty timing of a bunch of things that I had to do. Exams and such. It's holidays now, so chapters shouldn't be as far apart as 19 and 20 were. We hopes.

b) Um. No Trunks in this one. There would have been some only I wanted to get this up today because it's a certain readers birthday...

c) Happy Birthday Penchy-chan!!

d) here's the chapter...

~*~ Ch 20 ~*~

With a bone jarring, tongue biting whoomp, Gohan, Bulma and Chichi landed on the surface of the planet.

"Ooof." Said Bulma, still hanging upside down. She looked across at the other two seats, where Gohan and Chichi had strapped themselves in. Gohan unbuckled and dropped out of his seat, and somersaulted before he hit the grounds. Chichi's knuckles were white as her hands gripped the arms of the chair, but she pried them off with the same effort it took to pry her eyes open. 

"We're there," she said in awe, after twisting out of her seat with a little help from Gohan, because of the unexpected stronger force of gravity.

Bulma stood on the ground -ceiling- took a deep breath as she looked around, and shook out her arms, finding them feeling very heavy, but not impossible to move. Mentally she scolded herself, she hadn't thought about difference in gravity -and I'm supposed to be the genius, tsk. 

"Come on Gohan, get this door open for me."

Gohan, who had been looking through the windows, up the walls of the crater they had created in impact, turned to help.

"I think there's something up there." He said, as he jerked the upside-down door open a crack. Bulma, gripping onto his hand, pulled herself up to look out. There was nothing at the rim of the crater, just a lot of orange dust.

Bulma exhaled. "They won't mess with you, though." She said, quite confident of Gohan's strength.

"Well, they'll probably try." Gohan said dryly. "What's the plan, Bulma?"

"We get out there, you sense for Trunks, we find him, we go home." Said Bulma. "Kicking any opposing butt on the way, of course. Chichi, you and I have motor scooters- get the capsules out of the cupboard, will you?- Gohan, you're leading the way, found him yet."

"No." Gohan said carefully, "I'm more worried about them." Bulma looked back to the rim of the crater, where Gohan was watching, and saw the dozen figures standing in the almost-settled dust above them. Two dozen, as more appeared silently, silhouettes on the rim. The shadow of the nearby mountain range fell over the crater and those gathered around it, the sky was bright and a hazy, pale blue.

"Ah." Said Bulma. "Right. You sort that out then." She dropped back down into the ship. "One moment! You might want this..." Bulma pulled out a drawer, the contents of which scattered onto the floor. "Bother," she said, but reached down and picked up a scouter, not quite of sayain design, because Vegita had destroyed his. Still, she had thought it might be useful, and had reprogrammed and designed it.

Gohan looked down at Bulma, who was handing it up towards him. "Thanks." Gohan climbed out of the ship, eyes on the rim. As confidant as he was about his abilities, a quarter hundred sayains might be pressing it, a little.

He flew up and out of the crater, setting himself down gently on the ruddy coloured ground, in front of the biggest sayain there, the one who wore leadership and power on his face along with that long scar.

Bardock eyed the young man standing in front of him, they were exactly the same height, with the same pitch dark eyes, the same look of purpose in those eyes. Both had their arms folded.

"State yourself." Bardock said, Gohan's scouter translated. "And your purpose."

"Name's Gohan, from planet Earth. We're not here looking for a fight."

"You found one," stated Bardock. "Though with us or not, we've yet to decide." Neither broke eye contact with the other. Gohan inhaled through his nose, and searched the planet for Trunks's ki. "Your purpose?" He growled.

Gohan, restrained from answering that, kept searching. There were a lot of  
high power levels on this planet, all higher than that of Earth, meaning  
Trunks' was more difficult to settle on. He found it, at last, a good  
distance away.  
"You're a liar!" Pasha spat, from Bardock's right elbow. " From another  
planet, my foot! You've got 'Saiyan' written all over you!"  
"I don't have a tail." Commented Gohan. Pasha narrowed her eyes at him, eyes  
of suspicion and hate.  
"Who. Are. You." She demanded, lips curved in a snarl. Bardock made no move  
to silence her.  
"I told you, my name is Gohan and I'm from Earth. Yes, I'm part Saiyan, my  
father was sent there as a child, my mother is from Earth."  
"Must have been a unique circumstance to stop the boy from destroying the  
planet as per their instructions." Bardock said, thoughtfully, but suspicious.  
The tone of the word 'their', and this group's general attitude -so far as  
Gohan could make out -toward 'their' authority was enough to let down a  
little barrier, one that had been holding him back from explaining the  
reason for his arrival; had this group been those that issued the kidnap of  
Trunks, saying that he was here to rescue him would only result in battle.  
"Yes." Said Gohan, "it was."  
He knew who he was talking to, oh, he knew. The face -minus the scars, minus  
the deadly serious expression -and the hair -especially the hair!- told  
Gohan who he was. Images of Goku from when Gohan was a little boy came back  
to him, but it was the serious side of Goku, the warrior half. Goku fighting  
Vegita upon his arrival on Earth; Goku teaching Gohan all he knew about  
martial arts; and, at the last, Goku fighting the power of the androids, and  
loosing to it. The figure standing in front of his face was an image of that  
Goku, amplified -colder, harder and tougher than Goku, lacking Goku's  
constant compassion and love. Gohan looked into his grandfather's eyes, and  
spoke.  
"Some time ago a Saiyan craft landed on Earth, and kidnapped my friend,  
Trunks, he was part Saiyan too, his father a Sayain called Vegita."  
A flicker of emotion, of hate, showed in Bardock's eyes, but was covered  
before it could be recognised. Gohan saw it, but continued.  
"We followed him here, and we're here to rescue him and take him home. He's  
only young, with pale hair and-"  
"I know the boy." Bardock interrupted, he had a slight sadistic look to his  
smile. "And you've come to take him away? They won't be happy about that,  
not at all."  
That same smile was creeping over the rest of the Rebel's as they picked up  
on their leader's thoughts.  
"We will help you, and in turn you will help us. There's great power in you  
and we need that. A war begins and ends tomorrow night, a war between  
ourselves, and the Council, who use your friend as their pawn." Now Bardock  
was watching Gohan's face for traces of emotion. Unlike Gohan, he did not  
know to whom he spoke. Instead, Bardock saw power flowing in this young man  
with the Sayain eyes, power that was one more weapon against the Council,  
another way to break them, and to save his Sena. Bardock didn't see a  
grandson, he didn't see a friend, Bardock saw an ally, because he was  
Saiyan, and these other words meant little to him.  
"Come, we have much to plan." Bardock said, and many of the Rebels turned to  
leave, a handful took off into the sky and headed back to the mountains.  
From inside the ship, where Bulma and Chichi were watching, there was a huge  
sigh of relief as they saw them go.  
"And your travelling companions too." Bardock said, noticing Gohan's glance  
down into the crater. Pasha, who still glared at Gohan every time she met  
his eyes, jumped lightly down onto Bulma's ship, crouched on the top and  
looked down into the interior. Bulma met her stare but Chichi was looking up  
at Gohan, standing side by side with Bardock, and she, too, understood who  
he was, and was swept with a wave of loneliness. Chichi sighed, a sigh that  
sounded like 'Goku' and took Gohan's hand when it was offered, to pull her  
out of the ship and into the heavy air of Planet Vegita.  
Bulma, bluntly, said "you look exactly like Goku," the moment she laid eyes  
on Bardock.  
"I look like a what?" Bardock growled dangerously. "Who is this?"  
"This is Bulma," said Gohan. "Trunks's mother, and this is Chichi, mine."  
Chichi was staring at Bardock, dazed slightly. "And Goku was my father's  
name."  
Bardock looked from Gohan to Chichi, and back to Gohan, and not even Pasha,  
who knew him best of all, could tell what he was thinking. "Members of the  
Council could be here any minute." Bardock said, after a silence. "We're  
leaving now, can your women fly?"  
"We don't have to." Said Bulma, slightly insulted at his tone. "Chichi, the  
capsules?"  
"Hmm, oh. What?" Said Chichi, blinking once and looking at Bulma. "Oh, yes,  
here." She tossed the two capsules onto the dusty slope of the bottom of the  
crater, and two scooters appeared, landing in the heavy gravity with a  
thwomp. Bulma leapt onto one and started it up, Chichi, trying hard to watch  
her closely, followed suit, and the two were in the air, Gohan flying  
between them, Bardock, Pasha and Toma in front, leading the way back to the  
mountain clearing and cave.

**

The two saiyan women in the cell were watching each other. Arienla looked at Sena as if she was a new kind of threat, but wasn't sure to whom. Sena saw Arienla as someone else the Council had wronged, but someone who could possible be a danger to herself. They both stayed in their opposite corners.

Arienla spoke first, as she picked her own tail from the bloody, dusty ground and held it gently as if it would calm the hurt. "We need to get out."

Escape had been on both their minds since regaining consciousness. "Yes." Sena said. "Before tonight."

"What's tonight?" There were long pauses in the time when one fished talking and the other began, long, careful and calculating silences.

"The Seventh."

"And?"

"And I can't be in their hands when it happens. It will ruin everything."

Arienla massaged her tail, renewing the blood flow. Her wounds wept with blood and lymph, and she bound her tail with the dirty cloth she wore. She knew she owed the Rat's daughter something great; Sena had released her from the prison of pain her captives had barred her into submission with. She looked down at her body, it was whole and unhurt, although weak from lack of food for the past six days. "Next time they open the door, we kill them, we run." Arienla said. "Unless they bear food, or drink, in that case we'll take it, then take them down."

"They're stronger," Sena pointed out.

"We have surprise on our side." And desperation, but she wouldn't say that.

"When do they come?"

"When they will, they bear little routine." Arienla muttered. Sena stomach growled, but Arienla's had adapted to not eating and was sitting inside her feeling nauseous and rebellious instead.

Sena fell asleep two hours after that, and no-one had yet come.

~*~

Midnight. A dark and cold stretch of time before morning, time stretched longer than many of the Rebel's could bear, so had retired to their makeshift beds in the cave or in the nearby trees. In the cleared area at the bottom of a huge cliff, almost a mile away from the main cave, a huge bonfire roared and snapped and lit up the night. Bardock sat with Pasha and Toma, Rana and Nor, speaking in fast saiyan. 

Gohan could see then over the fire. He was positioned across the circle, and sat by himself, a short distance away from where Bulma and Chichi were sleeping, in a capsule house sheltered under a huge tree, pressed against the cliff on the opposite side of the fire from Bardock. Gohan thought he could feel his mother's eyes watching him, and watching Bardock, but he was concentrating on his ears. He knew three earth languages, and was bringing forth the memory of techniques he'd used to learn them. Listening to Bardock speak, to the other three reply, and watching the words zip past on his scouter, he was beginning to pick up words, repeated phrases. Already he was fluent with the most colourful of saiyain swear words.

There was a pause, and Pasha leaned close to Bardock and whispered something in his ear, too quiet for Gohan to hear. This worried him. Bardock turned his head to Gohan, and the rest of them followed his gaze. This worried Gohan more. He tensed, and eyed them cautiously, ready to spring into a fighting stance. Nor appeared behind him, Gohan's head snapped around; he'd been watching Bardock, and expecting him to make the first move.

He was fast enough to duck Nor's first blow, and counter his second and third before landing a blow of his own, hard. Nor shot backwards and rolled in the dust, then Bardocks huge hands were tightening round Gohan's throat and lifting him off the ground. 

There was a shriek from Chichi that Gohan heard with the edge of his hearing. His own hands gripped Bardock's wrists and he let his feet dangle. He was not going to retaliate for the simple fact that this was the leader, and he needed him. But then, he also needed his windpipe, which was being slowly crushed. Gohan spared a moment for a mental plea, hoping his mother and Bulma would stay in the capsule house. Please.

Gohan wheezed. "Put me down," he said, civilly, and in careful sayain.

"No. I think not. Where did you get that scouter?"

"Father's." Gohan chocked out the shortest explanation he could.

"And who taught you our language?"

"Me."

"When?"

"Ak. Now."

Bardock looked carefully at Gohan, threats written all over his face. He turned his head and nodded at Toma and Nor- who was dusting himself off. They nodded back and made for the capsule house. Gohan desperately tried a different approach.

"You don't trust me." He stated.

"Of course not."

"That could get us all killed."

"Maybe. But so could trusting you."

Gohan heard Toma force the door open, and to his mixed feeling ("Go Bulma!" and simultaneously "No! Don't do that!") heard a wooden chair splinter as Bulma crashed it down onto Toma's head. Gohan winced.

"Don't hurt them!" he croaked. His eyes were starting to cross but he kept them focused on Bardock's eyes. Goku's eyes. His own eyes.

"My father was your son, can you trust me for my blood?" 

Bardock's grip faulted for a moment, and Gohan's feet dropped a couple of inches closer to the ground. He narrowed his eyes at Gohan, then dropped him smack on his butt. Gohan's throat ached as air was gasped into his lungs.

"Blood means nothing on Vegita anymore." Bardock growled. Gohan turned round to see Toma gripping Bulma's wrists as she tried to kick and bite him. Nor had Chichi's arms held firmly against her body and she could barely struggle for his iron grip. She was still watching her son and, well, father-in-law with great intent.

Gohan stood up facing Bardock. "I will rescue my friend, with your help or without it, and you will rescue your daughter, with or without MY help. Band with me, we'll take them out together." He extended a hand to Bardock.

Everyone looked at Bardock.

Bardock nodded, and grasped Gohan's hand.

"Now, release Chichi and Bulma." 

"No. They stay with us." Bardock said. There was a splutter of indignation from Bulma's direction. Bardock ignored it. "You have my word they will not be hurt unless you turn against us. Unless you don't obey my orders. They will be released tonight. When it's all over." He looked to Gohan for his decision, but Gohan knew it was not his to make.

"Give us a moment." Gohan requested. Bardock nodded shortly and Gohan turned back to the women. Toma had released Bulma and Bardock's nod but Nor was still gripping Chichi, who's hands were starting to tingle and pale because her blood flow had been cut off.

"Let her go, Nor." Toma said gently, and after a moment Nor dropped his hands. Chichi flung herself at Gohan and grabbed him in a hug. Breathing a huge sigh of relief.

"What did they say?" Bulma asked.

"They want to keep an eye on you while I'm with them, they want you both as hostages, but Bardock has promised no hurt will come to you, and you'll be freed when we have Trunks back." Gohan explained. "And Sena." He added.

"Who?"

"His daughter, Bardock's daughter. What do you say? They won't let me come with them unless they have a safeguard."

Bulma had her get-out-of-the-way-RIGHT-NOW glare on her face, her arms here crossed and she was staring at Gohan.

"I don't think he'll hurt us. He's Goku's father." Chichi said quietly.

"Chichi! He's a SAYAIN!" Bulma exploded. "He's NOTHING LIKE Goku!"

"He's given his word." Gohan put in. Bulma glared again, at Gohan, then Chichi, then Bardock. They were all looking back at her expectantly.

"I'm NOT happy." Bulma growled. "But so long as no one TRIES anything..." she Death-glared at Nor and Toma, "then I suppose I don't have a choice. Now if you'll be so kind as to let us go back to sleep. We'd be most grateful." There were knives on the edge of her voice, even if the Saiyans didn't understand her words, they could still hear the knives. Big sharp pointy don't-mess-with-me knives. 

Bulma turned and stomped off back into the capsule house, slamming the door like a child in a tantrum. Chichi looked after her, gave Gohan a hug goodnight and followed her back in, closing the door behind her.

False dawn was breaking over the cliffs in a light of pale grey. Rana sat down on the capsule house doorstep, leaning against the door, watching the sky pale as the dawn of the seventh day crept ever closer.


End file.
